Hope and Harebrained Schemes
by QueenAzule
Summary: Draco is gay, and he can't show it. But maybe, just maybe- he and Hermione can work together to get the guys of their dreams. Pre-Ron/Hermione, Post- Harry/Ginny. T to be safe. Slash Draco/Harry. better than the desc sounds!
1. Set the Stage

A boy strolled around the lake lazily loosening his tie. He knew that to anyone watching he would look carefree, nonchalant- cool and rock-hard, like he looked every day. He was grateful for that. Nobody could ever know his inner thoughts, the ones he was having such incredible frustration with. The boy dropped his bag, certain he was hidden well behind a tree. Then his face crumpled and he leaned his head into his drawn-up knees, shuddering like he always did when he was nervous or scared.

Draco Lucius Malfoy was gay, and he didn't know what the hell to do about it.

Of course, he couldn't tell his friends. Blaise would laugh and tell everyone. Pansy- well, not that Pansy was a _friend, _she was more a blood-sucking parasite, but she would scream the news from every rooftop until his father knew. And if his father knew…

Draco's shaking grew more pronounced as he thought of the news getting to his father, that he was gay, a pouf, a shirt-lifter. His father would disown him. His father would take away everything. He'd be in disgrace, almost like a Mudblood or a Muggle. Him! Draco Malfoy! No, nobody could ever know. He'd just have to hide it. He could get by without marrying a girl; he could spread rumours, he could give them diseases, cripple them- he'd survive. Just so long as he didn't have to- kiss them, or pretend to _want _them; even the so-called hottest girls in school failed to give him a jolt. There were a few guys, but two were _Hufflepuffs, _of all things. The last one he wouldn't even talk to anymore, didn't bother- just tried to keep him out of his thoughts, out of his own private fantasies. Harry Potter had no place in his affections.

Draco's shuddering slowed and stopped as he calmed himself with images of Harry- not naughty ones, just sweet ones. What it could be like if they were together. Having Harry kiss him on the cheek for Christmas, maybe; Harry with his arm around him or holding Draco's hand as they walked down a street. _That can never be, _Draco told himself. _Stop! That boy has no place in your mind. _But the truth was, Harry ran rampant in Draco's thoughts, dreams, and his deepest hopes. He couldn't make himself stop anymore than he could make himself stop being gay. And with that thought, Draco built his face up again, standing, picking up his bag and straightening his tie. As he walked by the lake, he watched his reflection, striding proudly straight along the shoreline. On the inside he shrank, but on the outside he was as strong and "himself" as ever.

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Harry Potter sat in front of the fire. It was autumn, everything was getting a little colder- but he felt numb as Hermione rubbed his back and tried to get him to drink some hot chocolate. He stared hollowly at Ron's legs, which were blocking his view of the deep burgundy Gryffindor carpet.

"So let me get this straight," Ron said, his face screwing up a little. "My sister… dumped you…?"

Harry looked up, baring his teeth. "Yeah, Ron, Ginny dumped me. Just now, in fact. Are you happy now?"

Hermione made little shhing noises and shot a look at Ron, who steadily backtracked.

"Hell, mate, I didn't mean it like _that. _Merlin, I'd rather her be with you than any other bloke. But I mean, why?"

Harry raised his face to the fire, running a hand through his hair. Hermione raised the cocoa to him once more, and this time he took a long draught. Hermione smiled and set the mug on a nearby table.

"I don't have the foggiest idea. She just came running up to me, said, 'we're through', and ran away. I mean- Hermione, why would she do that?"

Both boys turned to Hermione, like students turning to a teacher. Fleetingly an expression of annoyance crossed Hermione's face. At the moment, she wished they'd never noticed she was a girl. She tucked her hair behind her ear primly, fully prepared to give them a nonsense reason.

"Well, you see, it could just be her time of month. Or you could have done something to anger her, or she could have just found another guy, or she-"

"Found another guy?" asked Harry, looking partially heartbroken, but mostly pissed.

"It's likely," said Hermione with trepidation. "I mean- well- drink more cocoa, Harry."

Harry sipped at the cup shoved in his face, but now he just looked pissed. Ron tried to take the cup from Hermione to have a sip but she slapped at his hand. "Whoa, touchy."

"This is Harry's," she said, looking over Harry's features anxiously for some sign that the boys didn't know would be there. Harry looked extremely angry, though- his brows were knitted together and he was shoving his glasses up on his nose angrily.

"Right, well, she can just stop thinking I'm going to take her back, or anything, because we are _through,_ THROUGH do you hear me! I'm- I-" Harry toppled forward a bit, realization. "Hermion-!"

"Ron, quick, you have to catch him," the girl shrieked, and Ron leapt forward just in time to keep his friend with the scar from crashing face first into the floor. Hermione blew her bangs out of her face, dumping the rest of the sleeping-potion-spiked cocoa into a potted plant. Ron looked up at her with shining eyes.

"You. Are. A. Genius, Hermione, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Yes, well," she said, blushing behind her hair. "It was a fairly simple potion and I happened to have some on me. You'd better get him to bed."

Ron grabbed her hand from behind, pulling her into a hug- just a brief one, but It made her heart flutter. "You're a lifesaver, thanks-" he heaved harry over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, and Hermione cast a quick Lightening charm. Ron shot her another grateful look before carrying his peacefully snoring friend past the gaggle of students in the common room (who were all sniggering) and up to the dormitories. Hermione allowed herself only a minute of wistful thinking before she turned back to the books. After all, Harry's Potions essay wasn't going to finish itself.

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Word spread around Hogwarts fast. Of course, it didn't help that Harry was one of the most sought-after men in Hogwarts history. Draco watched as Harry shouted something at Hermione, covered up by the clamor of other students in the Great Hall. He kept pelting bits of toast at her as he gestured frantically. The Weaselette was at the end of the Gryffindor tables, talking with a few of her friends and studiously ignoring her ex-boyfriend. Good. She didn't deserve him anyway.

An idea sparked in Draco's head. He smiled, watching Hermione now instead, leaning to Ron, Ron leaning away, looking around at the other girls in the Hall. _Oh, this could definitely be good._

"Blaise, come here. You're going to help me."

Okay you guys, this is going to run for about ten chapters, I think, unless it runs longer. Comments? Do you want me to continue? Which perspective do you like better, Draco's or Harry's? As always, love to those who review.


	2. An Interesting Proposition

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear as she lay peacefully alone under her favorite willow tree, twirling her wand in her fingers and tapping it against her thigh quickly, making pink sparks fly out the end. It was beautiful at Hogwarts in the fall, and with only one more year to go, the most studious of the "golden trio" was enjoying every chance she got to appreciate her incredible good fortune. She wasn't around the lake, really- it was more near the Quidditch pitch that she was sitting, watching the Gryffindor team hurtle overhead on brooms. Ron was back in his element, but Harry was absolutely hopeless, still full of rage at Ginny. Hermione clucked a bit and shook her head to herself, gently hauling a huge tome out of her bag and into her lap. The light was just enough for the Old English to be read clearly, and she was halfway down the second passage when a shadow fell over her page.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked without looking up. The boy sat down beside her, answering, "I want you to listen before you say anything. Is that clear?"

"Clear, Malfoy?" Hermione sputtered for a minute before looking up at the boy Harry and Ron so hated. "I don't hate you like they do- just- please, don't act like an arrogant git." The last words were out in a rush, but she held her ground, not moving until those piercing grey eyes backed down in… embarrassment? Shame? Hermione had no idea. But she closed the book and turned to him, trying to make him see she wasn't his enemy. Malfoy turned to her, and she saw that he was shaking- minute tremors that racked his thin frame. She hadn't been this close to him in years.

"First of all- I mean, er, please. I'd like for you to call me Draco. If we're going to get into this, we need to be at least on a first name basis, mu- Hermione."

"Right, then, _Draco. _What do you want? Blaise was very explicit in not mentioning anything whatsoever." Hermione held a tone of warning and annoyance in her voice. Quidditch was going to end soon.

"I need you to go out with me."

The blond raised his head to gauge her reaction, and what he was seeing wasn't looking very good. Hermione actually seemed to be turning purple, and her eyes were practically turning back in her head.

"Hermione? No, wait, just- listen." Draco muttered a quick spell, coating the inside of the willow leaves in silence. She actually was quite pretty, he decided, as long as she wasn't purple. His heart raced inside his chest. He couldn't believe that the first person he was going to come out to was this mud- this girl.

"I, er- goddammit! I can't- please-Hermione- Hermione, I'm gay!"

He slammed his head into his knees so hard that he saw stars and started shaking uncontrollably, rocking back and forth. Of course he'd run the calculations, of course he'd figured that she wouldn't tell anyone, much less Harry, but- Oh, hell. There was a soft arm encircling him, and it wasn't enough, not after all this time, but it was something. It was hope. He gathered his breath enough to stop making those ridiculous sobbing sounds, and continue on with his propositions.

"I see how you look at him, at Ron, and- and-." He stopped, searching for the words. "I- might have some feelings for Harry. And I just, I thought-" Where had he _gone? _Who was this fumbling, scared person? Hermione's arm gave him a squeeze, and he sat up, gaining some composure. "You want Ron, and he won't notice you unless you're taken away from him, which, let's face it, is terribly unlikely. I want- not Harry, exactly, I know he doesn't- I know he's not like me. But I-"

"Don't want this hate. You want to be near him, yes. It makes sense," whispered Hermione. "Draco, just, will you let me hold you? You don't have to be the Ice King, you know."

It wasn't the right touch; it was more mother than lover, and she was the wrong gender for lover anyway, but he was grateful for her. Draco was unbelievably grateful for Hermione Granger in the moment she took him in her arms, standing to hold him properly, and just let him weep into her shoulder; all the pent-up frustrations, all the non-love at home, his "friends" and the months alone in the Room of Requirement spent staring at a cabinet. He cried until his sobs were just dry gasps, and they sat back down. Hermione cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

"You want me to date you? For how long?"

"However long it takes for you to cheat on me with the Weasel. Sorry!" he gasped at the look on her face. "Ron- sorry, Ron. However long it takes him to notice you. With luck, he'll have noticed me by then too."

Hermione considered. It was almost cruel. But what was crueler than watching the guy you loved walk on in blindness, never considering you, never even looking at you, really, because you had just never occurred to him? She looked over at Draco. His face was impassive and he had stopped shaking, and was instead playing with the end of a shoelace. Only a slight crease in his brow betrayed his feelings. How could she even think of not doing this for him, this total arsehole, the impossible guy, this boy who needed her? With such total benefit to herself, as well. Hermione raised her head, shifting so he'd look up.

"I'll do it. You don't have to kiss me. But what's going to happen in the school?"

Draco shrugged. "Blaise is going to spread that it's a lark, that I'm just dating you to see if you'll fall for me. Which I know you wouldn't! Never!" he added hastily. "But we're going to be so in love that we don't care. And that'll get the- Ronald- to notice you and loathe me, and hopefully, Harry to-" he stopped himself, keeping the giddy fantasies of a furious Harry suddenly realizing that the great Draco was capable of love, and maybe, somehow- but no.

Hermione sighed. "Whatever works, I suppose. Holding hands?"

Draco curled a lip, but he'd gone this far. He reached out and touched her hand, and realized that she had extremely soft skin. "Holding hands, then."

The new couple stood in unison and parted the willow branches, leaving their sanctuary behind.

"WHAT IN HELL WAS HERMIONE THINKING!" raged Ron, whirling restlessly around the 6th year boy's dormitory. Harry sat sprawled out on his own four-poster, trying not to get angry himself. With Malfoy, of all the guys in Hogwarts! He could only imagine how Ron felt. Actually, scratch that, no, he couldn't. He'd never felt angry enough to put his foot through a window.

"Ron! Ron! Hell, mate, shit, you're bleeding, siddown siddown," panted Harry, forcing Ron away from the window and shouting a belated "SORRY" out into the night, in case anyone was walking below. "_Reparo. _Ron, I don't know how to heal with magic! You idiot, she's not worth it!"

There was no response except a stony look from Ron. The idiot was still denying his own feelings. Harry sighed and stomped into the bathroom to get a towel and some hot water. "Get your arse in here!" he bellowed through the open door. Ron limped through the door, still stony-eyed, but he sat obligingly with his legs in a shower stall. Luckily he was wearing boxers when he put his foot through the window, so Harry just turned on the hot water, trying not to burn his best friend. After a few minutes of Harry bandaging Ron with ripped white towels, Ron's voice breaks the silence.

"They looked happy, didn't they?"

Harry thought about it, trying to find a way to tell Ron that yes, they had. Malfoy had had his arm slung lazily around her as they sat at the Slytherin table eating dinner, him feeding her sweets at dinner with a sort of cool but doting look on his face. And of course, they were holding hands all dinner. The Hall had been uncharacteristically filled with gossip, but Ron had heard none of it, looking as if he was going to murder his plate. And it was just too much of a struggle for Harry to try to ignore both _Ginny, _Ron, and Hermione-Draco at once, so he'd just watched as they were exceedingly cute to one another.

"I will never, ever, understand girls," Harry replied fervently, and Ron grunted. As Harry got up and turned around, he was a pale figure on a broom, cloak flapping theatrically after him. The moonlight gleamed off platinum hair.

Harry rushed to the window, sticking his head out into the icy autumn night. Malfoy was up next to Hermione's window, whispering to her lowly, urgently, sounding more like a businessman than a boyfriend. Harry's brow furrowed, trying to listen to the words, but they had some kind of something. Hermione reached out a slender hand, cupping Malfoy's face with it.

"Draco. Calm down. It's going to be okay," she smiled at the Slytherin, and then their faces got really CLOSE. Harry slammed the window shut, not caring if they saw him, and sat panting with his back to the wall.

"Mate, you should stay inside here for a while," he said, and sat down suddenly on the floor.

_A/n _HI YOU GUISE. Okay, so this is chapter two. I hope you liked it. I am not JKR, I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated, etc. Reviews? I was sort of back and forth this chapter with POV, but I'll try to even out as this advances. Much love to those who review!


	3. You Can't Look Dignified in Zits

AN: I am still not JKR, despite my wishes to Santa. I don't own anything.

Wow! I am astounded by the response this story has gotten! Love to those who review and favorite and alert, you're fantastic, and I'm going to try to update pretty frequently.

Hermione released Draco's face as if stung when the sound of a window slamming cut through the night.

"I'm so sorry, Harry was out here, and I couldn't let him think you weren't treating me well; he'd kill you."

Draco felt mildly pleased by the thought. Undoubtedly Harry would be unbelievably sexy attempting to kill him. Hermione noted the look on his face and pulled him so he toppled inside the 6th year girls' dorms.

"Are you mental? You don't want Harry angry at you!" Hermione hissed. Her dorm was small but homey, with a little pot-bellied stove in the corner. Draco considered curling his lip at the pure volume of red and gold in the room, but it actually wasn't- dare he say it- too terrible. It made it look sort of- warm. Hermione gestured to a bed that smelled of girl. She sat beside him, completely at ease, but she kept muttering various phrases about his intelligence into her hands.

"Look, Hermione, I won't get him angry at me on purpose, alright?" snapped Draco eventually. "The last thing I want is for him to hate me more."

"Alright, okay," she conceded, covering his hand with hers. "I'm sorry, it's just- Harry is very protective of me, and I don't dare to think of Ron." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before setting it back in her lap. He actually felt some genuine affection for Hermione. It had been- nice- during dinner, he supposed. Pansy had finally gotten her hands off him for the first dinner since term started. And while he didn't like Hermione in that way, it was nice to have someone in his arms, to protect. They hadn't been bothered by the Slytherins, for the most part, besides some sniggers and rude words. Besides the burning glares sent by Ron and the curious gaze from Harry (Draco was blushing the whole time), he had been totally able to focus on pleasing his girlfriend. And really, it was sort of good to see her smile and know that he was the cause of that. All in all, this whole arrangement could be a whole lot worse.

"There's Hogsmeade next week," he said, looking at her. Hermione brushed her hair out of her face with a teasing glance.

"Why, boyfriend dearest, are you asking me to go?" she smirked, almost as well as a Slytherin. Draco, feeling sort of sily, leaped to his feet and bowed deep in front of her, taking her hand in his.

"I would be most honoured, my darling Miss Granger, if you would deign to accompany me to Hogsmeade next week. Of course, we'd be properly chaperoned, but if it offends your dignity, I will certainly withdraw my overzealous request immediately," Draco teased, adopting the plummy tone of a pure-blood fiancé. Hermione laughed (not giggled- that was one of the best things about her). There was a muffled scream from the boy's dormitories.

"HE WHAT?"

"Oh, hell, you'd better go back to your common room, he'll be trying to charge up the staircase next," said Hermione, sounding simultaneously exasperated and pleased. Draco smiled.

"I'll see you for breakfast, then?"

"Come pick me up at the bottom of the stairs, I'll see if I can get Harry to walk with me."

Draco blushed, smoothing back his hair but climbing on his broom nonetheless. "Do you think that's wise?"

"Who cares, it's love," said Hermione airily, listening to the sound of a very disgruntled boy re-realize that the stairs turned to a slide when a boy set foot on them. Draco felt a sudden surge of affection and lay his broom down.

"Come here, I don't do this often," he said, opening his arms. Hermione smiled and hugged her boyfriend. She was quite pleased, even though it seemed as if his hug hadn't been used in ages- he was all angles and uncomfy spots. But the fact he was hugging at all was amazing to her. It seemed that Draco was actually pretty affectionate if you pushed the right buttons.

"Now go, go, before he tries to murder you," Hermione laughed, shooing him towards the open window. Draco gave a casual salute before dropping out into the night.

Ron took one look at Hermione, who was wearing not just her robes but had done something to her hair like she had back in the Yule Ball, and stormed down to breakfast without another word. Hermione watched him go with an almost triumphant look on her face, and Harry sighed.

"He put his foot through the window last night, you know, he shouldn't be running round like that," Harry said, hoping to wipe the smirk off her face. Hermione looked vaguely alarmed, but still she smiled. "Fine, let's go."

They started out of the common room together, sides brushing as an uncomfortable silence spread between them. Harry studied with new vigor the castle he'd practically lived in for the past six years. In the early morning everything was pale, washed with a softer light. Students surged into the corridors, talking with the drowsiness that morning brings to hyperactive teenagers. Peeves's cackles echoed though the hall, mingled with the very reprimanding tones of Nearly Headless Nick: "Peeves, I must ask you not to tamper with those- Peeves, don't make me- AUGH! ….I didn't know that pipes could bend like that…"

"Stay out of the girl's bathrooms," Harry whispered to Hermione, and she laughed as she caught on to the conversation.

"Please. Like Peeves hasn't tried that before. I'm used to ducking the water," she replied, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Did you even try to brush your hair today, Harry? Honestly, you look as if you've never seen the inside of a hairstylist's in your life." She licked a few fingers and smoothed down his hair.

"Will Malfoy be happy with that?" Harry asked, squirming away from her touch. She stopped as if completely shocked, and he stopped as well, letting students hustle past him. There was a sort of hot, burning feeling in his chest, which he recognized as loathing and protectiveness.

"Harry- Here-" Hermione yanked his arm, and Harry yelped as her fingernails dug into his skin. The classroom they were in was completely empty and the sounds of Hermione pacing agitatedly bounced off the walls.

"It was just a question!" Harry protested, watching her turn, lifting her face. She looked much like when she'd set the canaries on Ron, and he felt that his wand was still in his robes pocket before he turned to face her.

"No, Harry, it was an accusation," said Hermione, and her voice was tight with stress. "I know you hate Draco- don't wince like that, it's his name- and I know you two have never been on speaking terms. But he's good to me and he notices I exist and he's a perfect gentleman. He is _not that bad, _Harry James Potter, and you'd do well to remember that the boy you met in first year has changed just as much as you have!"

"Hermione, he's an evil git!" said Harry, anger rising in him. Here she was, lecturing him as if he were a child! Wasn't she the one so sure of the Heir of Slytherin second year?

"No, he's NOT!" Hermione shrieked, stunning him into silence. "He is a boy, just like you, and you would do well to learn from his manners and how he treats the people he cares about! I am _sick _of you and Ron judging him! He's a perfectly good human being who needs a bit of help, and he _likes _me, when was that a crime? Tell me, Harry!"

Harry backed up against the desk. He'd never seen Hermione lose control like that.

"Is it wrong to think I'm _desirable,_ is that it?"

"No, Hermione, you _are, _it's that-"

"Just-" she sounded tired now, and Harry let his guard down. "Give him a chance, Harry. That's all I ask. He doesn't hate you or Ron anymore. He likes me. Just let him like me."

What do you say to that? Harry sighed and said, "Whatever makes you happy, I suppose."

She smiled at him, and he sighed. _Ron's going to kill me. _"Come on, we're missing breakfast."

When they finally got to the Hall, Harry immediately noticed a certain platinum-haired Seeker leaning lazily against a pillar, drawing shapes with his wand in the air. Hermione called out his name and Malfoy turned, smiling at her.

"I was beginning to worry," he said as they drew nearer. Hermione took the proffered arm, and the smooth voice continued languidly, "Oh, I didn't know you were bringing Harry."

"Harry?" asked Harry, and Hermione sent him a look.

"Well, Ron stormed out on me, so I was left with him," she said, leaning a little into Malf- Draco's side. He smiled at her. Harry trailed behind the couple as they continued talking, trying not to exude the cold shoulder. M- Draco turned to him just as they were about to reach the table.

"I heard you got Quidditch Captain this year," he said, sounding genuinely interested. Harry forced himself to talk civilly.

"Yeah, I've got tryouts soon," he said. "Who's your captain this year?"

"Blaise," said Draco, gently guiding Hermione to the Gryffindor tables. "He's a better leader than I am, anyway, and he's a good Chaser. I bet you'll do fantastically."

"I'm hoping," said Harry fervently. "Last thing I want is a team that won't listen to me." It was surprising how easy it was to talk to Draco. As long as it was Quidditch, anyway. Malfoy shrugged, but with the sort of sympathetic air that made it clear that he was supportive of Harry's words. As they sat, Malfoy poured Hermione juice and automatically ladled out her food before he took any of his. Hermione looked happy, watching the Slytherin wait on her hand and foot. Harry took his food and started munching as Draco continued chatting to Hermione. He felt Ron's hurt eyes burning into him, but he ignored it. Ron could survive without him for a few minutes, and he wanted to check out Malfoy for himself.

"So I heard they're opening a new shop in Hogsmeade," said Draco pleasantly, picking at his eggs. "It's supposed to be really good. It's called Whims and Fancies, and it's sort of a novelty shop."

"Really?" asked Hermione. "What sort of novelties?"

"Well, I don't know what it's called here, but in the Muggle world, apparently, it's called a _fun house?" _Draco pronounced the words delicately, as if they might hurt him.

"Oh, brilliant, I've never been to one of those," said Harry before he could stop himself.

"Really? I would have thought you would have gotten anything, raised by those Muggles."

Harry gritted his teeth, not missing the way Hermione's arm moved under the table.

"No, my Muggles hated me. So I'm glad I'm getting to go to a fun house now, aren't you?" he asked, managing to keep his voice pleasant. Malfoy, to his credit, looked startled and ashamed.

"Well you know… wizards like me… don't often mix with the Muggle world," he said hesitantly, sounding embarrassed. "But I'd love to try. Hermione are going, do you want to join us?"

Hermione's eyes were pleading and Draco looked strangely hopeful. Harry sighed, glancing sideways at Ron's red complexion.

_Who do you choose?_

"Er- sure, but I may be a little late."

Hermione was beaming, and Draco looked placid. Harry looked back at his food, alternately excited and shocked at what he had just done. They ate with nothing addressed at him for a while. Draco and Hermione set each other off nicely in that they were apparently both interested in much the same things, so they entertained themselves while Harry brooded over his food. As he picked up a potato, a sharp voice came across the table.

"Harry, you don't want to eat that, it'll give you zits."

Harry looked in astonishment at Draco, who was turning a delicate shade of pink.

"You can't look dignified in zits," said the pureblood by way of explanation, and hastily turned back to Hermione. Harry shrugged and started onto the sausages instead.

Terrible ending, I know, but the next one should be up fairly quickly. I'm excited to write about the fun house! As always, love to those who review, and thanks muchly to all of you readers!


	4. In Which Wars are Won and Lost

A/N: Still not JKR, still don't own anything, still just a hopeless fangirl with an imagination and laptop. Love to all you lovely people~

"He did say he was coming, right?" Draco wasn't used to waiting on people, and so he could hardly help it that he was hanging off Hermione's shoulder. It was strange that he'd gone from finding her repulsive to dating her to finding her to be a friend in just three weeks. Hermione smiled and re[lied the affirmative for the seventh time since they'd sat down in the cold autumn air outside Whims and Fancies. Hermione'd cast a quick Warming charm to keep the wind at bay, but Draco had draped his arm around her for the sake of appearances. And so they'd sat. And sat. and now it was a half an hour later and the Boy Who Lived still hadn't shown.

Needless to say, Draco's nerves were frayed.

"Draco, calm down, all right? He was excited to come. Ron probably just held him up. After all, today is Quidditch tryouts."

"Stupid Quidditch," muttered Draco darkly. Hermione snorted.

"It's one of the few things you have in common with him, so get off your high horse!"

Draco scowled and, noticing some Hogwarts students passing, pretended like she was teasing him. Hermione sighed, and patted his cold, angular face twice before setting her hand back in her lap.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" she said, and held out her hand.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Hold your hand like this, with the thumb up. Right, exactly. Now we go: One, two three four. I declare a thumb war. Five, six, seven, eight. Hermione is really great!"

Draco shot a look at his girlfriend, and she shrugged. "it's true. Anyway, now we try to hold the other's thumb down. And whoever holds it for ten seconds wins. Right, ready, go!"

Viciously they battled; Hermione trapped his thumb with an expertise that he could hardly hope to match. Draco laughed and gestured to go again. They were halfway through their fifth game when a voice behind Draco's shoulder murmured, "I battle the winner."

_Harry! _Draco's heart leapt unbidden into his throat and he completely lost focus, letting his thumb go slack. Hermione cheered, counting too quickly to catch, and then she jumped up and spun around in a little circle. Draco slowly turned around to see Harry just a foot away, smiling dotingly at his best female friend as she did a little dance of jubilation. He was all mussed from Quidditch, with his hair sticking straight up in back, and clothes rumpled from being stored in a bag. Draco couldn't catch his breath and he was sure he was blushing.

"Oh come here, you stuck-up snob," called Harry cheerfully to Hermione, and they proceeded to have a thumb war. Hermione won, instilling another round of victory dancing. When it got too much, Draco stood up, unfolding his limbs like a nobleman and wrapping his long arms around Hermione, getting her to stop.

"Hermione, you're going to have to talk for a while," he said in a husky voice, whispering into her ear. She nodded, letting her laughing subside.

"Well, come on, then, we're late as is!" she declared, grabbing Draco by the hand and pulling him into the outside of the shop. The bored-looking witch at the front counter quickly sold them tickets for three Knuts each. Through a large blue door they went, and they were in a hall of mirrors that seemed to go on forever.

"Oh, shit, I hate these," said Hermione, looking with trepidation at her reflections. Draco squeezed her hand, being the perfect boyfriend as he felt his way along the wall, finding the way. Harry remained rooted at the entrance, staring at the many reflections of the three of them in the hall- Draoco in a grey peacoat with black skinny jeans and boots, Hermione in a sensible jumper and sturdy shoes, and of course, himself, in a tight-fitting Quidditch tee and jeans.

"Harry, come on!" called Draco back toward the boy. Harry shook his head like a dog. "I- yeah, okay, yeah." He inched forward, looking confused. As he got closer, Draco grabbed out at him instinctively, latching onto his hand.

"What the hell's wrong with you, mate, come on," he said, pulling his girlfriend and _Harry. _along by their hands. Quickly he found the exit and they bounced out into a small room also filled with mirrors, but this time with funny little wavy ones that mate them weird shapes. Hermione took a deep breath and Harry muttered something about err-ih-said or something, but Draco was delightedly exclaiming,

"Look! We're _fat!_"

It took a few minutes, but Harry and Hermione got over their brief periods of Draco-didn't-know-what and started to hop around the room too, sometimes calling for the others, but mostly falling over in peals of laughter. Harry had a lovely laugh, Draco decided (though he may have been prejudiced by the fact that Harry looked _amazing _when he laughed). He found himself going further and further from his girlfriend in the hall of mirrors, following Harry.

"Look at this!" This mirror was magical, and not only distorted the image of the person, but projected a word onto its face. Draco stood in front of it, wondering what it would come out as, praying it wouldn't be 'gay'.

To his relief, **Pure-Blood** flashed on the face, showing a picture of a person stripped to their veins. Harry snorted. "That's gross."

"Well, you go on then, if you're so picky," said Draco playfully, shoving Harry in front of him. The mirror made a person with its tongue stuck out. **Loser **flashed across the face. Harry laughed, and they stood together.

"It's true- you did lose to Hermione."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Draco nodded, trying not to seem too eager. Harry leaned in and faux-whispered: "I let her win."

Draco stared. "You did not!"

"Yup, I totally did."

"Only I'm supposed to do that! I'm the boyfriend!" It felt false to Draco, and he fell silent. Harry shrugged.

"Come on, we should go- we don't have all day."

"Yeah, sure-"

As they walked away from the mirror, Draco glanced back just once. On the mirror in plain black script, there was just one word that both terrified and elated him.

The mirror read **Friends.**

Harry raised his glass, the butterbeer inside sparking in the firelight.

"To friends!" he said, and Hermione and Draco followed suit, echoing, "to friends!" and clinking their glasses. They sipped in a comfortable silence, listening to the buzz of the crowd around them. Draco wasn't holding Hermione's hand, or touching her in any way, but it felt alright. Besides, his and Harry's knees were touching due to his long legs, so that was definitely a plus. Draco stared into the fire. This felt so different from the Slytherin common room, or being out with his friends- the Slytherin ones. That was all about status, and daring, and who could put down the most people. And it was fun, in a cruel sort of way. But this was comfort and beauty. Why, why on earth had he ever waited this long to open up? Why had he not found this sooner?

Hermione bumped his knee. "Knut for your thoughts," she said.

"I'm happy," said Draco.

He was happy, and that was enough.

The slushiness will develop soon! I just wanted to make a base. Lots of angst up ahead, lots of depressed!Draco and dapper!Harry and caretaker!Harry. Love to reviewers. You keep me going on~


	5. Happy Christmas

A/N: I am absolutely staggered by how many lovely people are sending reviews and such. I love you all with all my heart. There's a bit of mature!Ron this chapter- tell me what you think.

I have not magically transfigured into JKR, and I still don't own anything.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

"I won't! He's USING you, Hermione, you can't honestly think that-"

Harry rubbed his eyes, slipping his glasses on so the world resolved into some closed curtains. It was just about to the Christmas holidays, and he should have known: Draco's and Hermione's honeymoon was over. Ron and Hermione were in a row again.

"That WHAT! That WHAT, Ron?"

"Nothing, nothing- I-"

Harry bolted upright. Hermione had gone deathly silent, which either meant she was nonverbally killing Ron, or there was an explosion ahead. Quickly he pulled on some shoes and a shirt and dashed out of the dormitory. As the air was split with a shriek, Harry skidded to the end of the last stair and surveyed the scene.

It was as if it were frozen in time- Hermione was splitting the air with her wand, wielding a glass in the other. Ron, with a red and terrified face, was ducking to hide behind a couch. Everyone else was backing to the sides of the room, looking horrified. As the glass fell on Ron's head, shattering into a million pieces, Hermione _burst _with the pent-up feelings of just two months with a decent boyfriend and being picked on constantly by Ronald Weasley. Harry lingered back, scared for his health if he intervened.

"I am so SICK of you, Ron! You sit on your high horse and you judge everyone and the truth is, you couldn't get a girlfriend if you tried! I am NOT unattractive, I am LOVED for ONCE in my life and you are NOT GOING TO RUIN IT FOR ME. SO HE'S NOT THE GUY YOU WANTED? WELL TOO BAD, I WANT _HIM, _SO BUGGER OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME BE HAPPY!"

With a swift motion she cursed Ron and stalked out of the common room, her hair frizzing at the ends with the force of her anger. The portrait hole closed with a slam. Ron was bleeding from a long scratch on the side of his face, but Harry was never going to forget the expression that crossed his face: if you wanted to define heartbroken, this was it. It looked as if the world had just slammed the door on him and now he was in limbo. And then Ron gave up, falling backwards onto the carpet, staring at the ceiling hollowly with tears trickling down his cheeks.

Harry sighed and went forward to pick up his friend. As he lay a hand on Ron's arm, the ginger flinched.

"Don't."

Harry withdrew his hand.

"Come on, mate, you're bleeding-"

"No- no. No, I deserve this. … Just go to breakfast, Harry."

Harry didn't want to go. The bitterness in Ron's voice was the sound of several years of maturity clicking into place, with the recent realization that the girl he'd liked for probably five years was never going to speak to him again. It couldn't be good for his best friend.

"Go and make her happy. It's almost break- just- go."

Harry tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his pajama pants, and pressed it to Ron's bleeding cut, then went upstairs to change into something a little more presentable.

Draco was preening his hair while waiting for Hermione when she barreled down the stairs and started sobbing into his chest. Automatically his arms flew up, and he tried to settle them around her heaving shoulders. She was muttering unintelligible under her hysterical sobs, and he pulled her gently until they were sitting and he had one arm around her shoulders as she cried into his right shoulder.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, a little desperately- he'd never had a girl come crying to him before. Hermione attempted to speak and just ended up choking, so he held her, warding the air around them, to keep people away. Hermione slowly started breathing between sobs, but the tears didn't stop- it was like someone had finally cracked Hermione and everything was flowing out. Draco understood. It was how he felt whenever he was near Harry- like he had cracked open and everything that was Draco Malfoy utterly belonged to the Boy who Lived. So he started to murmur assurances of Hermione's beauty, character, intelligence- anything he thought would help build her back up, he murmured in a ceaseless litany, trying to calm her down.

Hermione eventually calmed down enough to take a breath and move away from him a little. It was then that Draco noticed _Harry Potter_ holding a hand against the barrier he'd put up, mouthing words and pounding with his fist every so often.

"Oh, hell," said Draco, and quickly muttered the countermeasures. Harry fell over onto the floor but crawled toward Hermione, who gave him a fierce hug as soon as he got close enough. Draco started to clean his shirt from the snot and tears that had partially dried- his father was going to kill him. When he put his wand down, Hermione had stood with Harry standing awkwardly next to her. Draco immediately leaped up, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was the boyfriendly thing to do. But this was also something he would do even if he didn't have to- he had genuinely grown affectionate for the girl who accepted him against all reason. And so, together, they walked into the Hall and sat down to eat their last breakfast before Christmas Break.

**Three Days Later**

Dear Hermione,

How was your break so far? For Christmas our house is all decorated in silver and green. It's terribly cold here, and all the relatives are coming tomorrow. I don't know what I'll do. Anyway, happy Christmas Eve.

-Draco

_Dear Draco,_

_It's been lovely so far, actually. Mum and Dad have gotten me a Kindle, which is a Muggle device for reading books. They won't let me see it until tomorrow, though. Our relatives are visiting tomorrow, too, but I'm excited to see them. My aunt Carole always gives the best presents. _

_What's wrong with your relatives? Well- besides the obvious._

_And have you heard from Harry? I would have thought he'd have written by now, being stuck in the Burrow with Ron._

_Happy Christmas Eve!_

_Love, _

_Hermione_

Dear Hermione,

None of _my _relatives give good presents, you're lucky. And they don't really know anything about me, and my- you know. And I haven't heard from Harry. That is weird, but I'm sure he's being well taken care of. I've got to go- it's past twelve. Happy Christmas!

-Draco

_Dear Draco,_

_Happy Christmas! The Kindle is fantastic! My aunt Carole got me this fantastic book on a Muggle history of magic. Faeries and such. It's fascinating. What did you get? Were your relatives too terrible? I have a present for you when we get back to Hogwarts. I think Harry did too, but I could be wrong. I'm terribly sorry, I'm just dashing this off before I have to go eat dinner. I'll write again soon!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_Dear Draco,_

_Are you okay? I haven't heard from you since Christmas- did you leave or something? Write me soon, okay?_

_-Hermione_

_Draco,_

_Write me or I'm calling Dumbledore._

_Hermione_

_Draco,_

_Dumbledore said he can't do anything until you're back on Hogwarts grounds. What's wrong? Write me!_

_Hermione_

_Harry,_

_Have you heard from Draco? I'm worried he may be hurt or something- he hasn't written me since a week ago and I'm scared his parents found out he was- well, never mind but I think he may be in trouble. _

_Hermione_

**Hermione,**

**No, I haven't heard from Draco. Why would he be hurt? Doesn't his family think he's brilliant? He's the Malfoy heir anyway, his father wouldn't dare. Don't worry, I'm sure he's fine. See you in two days.**

**Harry**

_Draco,_

_Please meet me on the platform tomorrow, I'm worried about you. _

_Hermione_

!  
Reviews? What did you think? I kind of stole the letter-writing style from Moonshadows, which is a fantastic Sirius/Lupin fic. As always, reviews are love, and thanks for the ones you've already sent me.


	6. Meeting Draco Malfoy Part 1

A/N: Still not JKR, still don't own anything. *lesigh* Anyway, I'm really trying to churn these out as quickly as I can for you guys, But I'm going to start to take a little more time for them. These chapters coming up are going to be angsty and all trippy and so I need to figure them out. I'm still writing! Just don't freak out if it takes me more than one day to update.

Also, my transition things aren't working on here, so instead I'm going to be doing a bold line of s's to separate parts. They don't mean anything except transitions.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione hung out the window anxiously, looking desperately for Draco on the platform. He wasn't anywhere to be seen, and she would have known that blond head of hair anywhere. Harry tugged on her sweater.

"Hermione, the train's about to start, it'll rip your head off. Come sit down."

"I just don't know where he is," she said, settling uneasily on the seat. Luna stuck her head up from behind a Quibbler, made a strange noise, and retreated again. Harry shrugged.

"He'll turn up. He's crazy about you, anyway, so…"

Hermione felt sick to her stomach. She turned and pressed her face against the cold window. Draco wasn't crazy about her. He was grateful to her, yes- he'd said so once. And sure, he was her friend. But he'd never loved her romantically, not like the way Harry meant.

"He-" she stopped herself. Draco would tell Harry about their fake relationship in his own time. Instead, she forced a smile and turned to her best friend. "How was Christmas?"

Harry shrugged. Ron had alternately moped and acted like he was fine and had muttered Hermione's name several times in his sleep. Ron was very angry with himself, and so being at the Weasley's for Christmas, while thoroughly entertaining, was like spending a week watching a man try to tear himself apart. In the end he'd just avoided Ginny by hanging out with Lupin, who'd stopped by, and the twins, who were actually good for a laugh and had taught him several new ways out of the castle. Instead of explaining this, he simply said, "not too bad. Yours?"

"It was fine, thanks," said Hermione, slightly miffed by his response, and looked around the car. Neville was buried in a book and Luna was now making circles in the air with her finger. Dean and Seamus, who were passing by, were talking and laughing. Was it only her who felt uneasy right now?

There was a flash of red hair outside the car, and Hermione had to turn towards the window to hide her half grimace, half smile. Ron had taken Harry's invisibility cloak. She should be creeped out, Hermione reflected, pulling a book out of her bag to keep her occupied, but this was sort of the thing she'd been hoping for. A boy too ashamed to show his face, but one who cared enough to find a way to see her. She'd finally succeeded in asserting some control over the boy she'd finally realized that she- well, that she liked a lot. She sighed and opened to page 472 and started to read.

****

The familiar jolt when they pulled into the Hogsmeade station was enough to pull Harry from where he'd been having a nap. It was dark - the stars were just coming out. The tremendous sense of well-being that washed over him was comparable only to when he'd found out he was a wizard. Harry sighed, getting up and filtering into the corridor after Hermione. He was home.

Outside, the air was just a little cold, and the wind was gentle but brisk at their backs. Harry's robes pressed against his legs. Beside him, Hermione was struggling with a book.

"Here, let me help you," Harry said, and took the book from her. She flashed a grateful smile and opened her bag to put it away.

A familiar blond head stepped out in front of them, almost knocking Harry over.

"Oh, Potter, didn't see you there," said a lazy, careless voice. "Hey, Granger." And with that, the pureblood strode away, catching up to Blaise and Pansy, who were waiting for him. Hermione's head shot up and she watched rather helplessly as Draco stepped into the carriages pulled by thestrals- ones that she could now see due to Sirius's death last year. He handed his bag to someone inside, and there was brief flash of white as his eyes darted toward them. Then the boy got into the carriage and was gone.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Harry, putting the book inside Hermione's humongous bag. "Potter? Granger? I thought he was over that stuff."

"So did I," murmured Hermione, staring after the departing carriage. "So did I."

"Are you two still together?" Harry asked. Draco'd been so- cold- it was if there was bad blood between them, or something.

"I think so," said Hermione. She shook her head, like clearing cobwebs. "Come on, let's get a carriage."  
****

Ron looked sidelong down the table where Harry and Hermione were clustered together with Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Lee. They were all laughing at something or other and jostling each other. The ginger turned back to his food, losing his appetite for the first time in a week and a half. Ron was a comfort eater, but now the sight of delectable pork and potatoes and asparagus sickened him. He pushed his plate away from his and lay his head on his hands.

He'd been such an idiot. No wonder none of his friends wanted to be near him now. After all, if it was between him and Hermione, even he'd choose Hermione. He always would.

Ron looked over at Malfoy, who was sitting with his friends, brushing an imaginary hair off his robes. He looked the same as always- but him and Hermione weren't sitting together. Was it too late? He looked down at Hermione. No doubt she would have shown some sign of distress by now if they'd broken up. Ron sighed again and stared at the sky, dark and impervious so the celebrations going on inside the hall.

_I wish this was over. _

He ran a hand through his hair and looked as Dumbledore cleared his throat, tapping his wand against the podium.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts! I do believe you will all be getting sleepy from all the good food sometime soon, so I will make this brief. There are only two start-of-term announcements; first of all, Hagrid has asked for, and received, a small portion of the Forbidden Forest from the centaurs. It can be used as a leisure place, but all students must stay within the borders to be offered protection against the creatures inside the Forest. "

Dumbledore calmly waited until the muttering of the students died down, and continued.

"Second, I have been approached by numerous students requesting a dance. All the teachers have agreed to have one. Now-"

It was no use. The noise in the Hall rose to a dull roar, with students excitedly grasping at each other and bouncing up and down in their seats. Only five faces in the Hall were somber: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ginny and Ron Weasley.

"SILENCE!"

IT was as if someone had turned off a tap- not another peep was heard. Dumbledore smiled serenely.

"We will wait until we have gotten votes from the students for what theme you would like. If you should like to submit a vote, Professor Snape here will have a box for you to put a vote into. The dance will be decided upon in a week.

"Now off to bed with all of you! There are classes tomorrow, and undoubtedly you will want to get your rest!" Dumbledore stepped back and allowed chaos to ensue.

"Oh yeah, he expects us to sleep after that," said a Hufflepuff girl who was passing close to Ron. "I've got to start shopping!"

Ron was the only silent person in a hall of hundreds. He forced his way through several giggling Ravenclaws and into a shortcut Harry'd shown him before his falling-out with Hermione. In complete silence, he made his way alone to the Gryffindor common room. The shortcut guaranteed he was the first one there, and so he sprinted up to the boy's dorms and got into bed straightaway. Blissfully, sleep claimed him just as steps were on the stairs.

Harry looked on his best friend's contorted face. In his sleep he wasn't relaxed- in fact, he looked more tense than he did awake. Harry sighed, pulled the covers up over his friend, and started to get ready for bed himself.

**A Week Later**

Harry lingered in the common room, pretending to do homework. It had been one week since term started. One week since none of them had gotten letters from Draco. One week since Draco had reverted back to his attitude pre-dating-Hermione. One week since the torments had started back on the golden trio. One whole entire week since his world had drastically changed.

Harry supposed he should start calling Draco by his last name again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew something had to be up. People don't just change that radically, even if they used to be the biggest asshole in school. And tonight, Harry was going to find out what was wrong.

The Invisibility Cloak was five inches short on him, so he had to walk with his knees bent. The halls of Hogwarts were darkened, but he knew where he was going to find Draco without looking up. The boy had spent this time of night pacing the library for the last three days. And anyway, Harry had the Marauder's Map for assurance. It was a short walk, but Harry felt like it was the longest one he'd ever taken. Would Draco even talk to him? Or would h open up with him? Harry wasn't as emotionally stupid as most of the 6th year boys, and knew that the Slytherin needed someone to be there for him. He just wasn't sure if Draco would let him be that one.

The library door barely creaked as he opened it, and he slipped inside feeling very pleased with himself.

Straight in front of him was Draco Malfoy, illuminated in the moonlight through the window, shaking slightly, in just a thin white button down and gray sweatpants. (Sweatpants! marveled Harry. Draco Malfoy in sweatpants!) He raised his head a little from where he was sitting and said,

"I know it's you, Potter, so come out from under that wrapper of yours and let's get this over with."

Harry was so shocked that he just let the Cloak slide off him, and he walked forward, sitting opposite the table from the Prince of Slytherin.

"You can call me Harry, you know," he said. "I don't mind."

"Well, I do, now what the hell do you want?"

He was shaking, Harry realized, and without thinking about it put a hand to the side of the Slytherin's face. He was ice-cold, as if chilled from the inside with some kind of freezing spell. As Harry's warm hand contacted skin, Draco went absolutely still. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say Draco was craning into the touch. But no- his hand was flung away with some long, cold fingers.

"What was that for?" he asked, sucking on a knuckle that had hit the table hard.

"Don't- just please, don't touch me, Harry."

"So you don't mind," said Harry smugly, taking his knuckle away from his lips. Draco went very white and Harry poised himself for a fight. The paler boy stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over backwards, shattering the back with a force that Harry hadn't known the other boy possessed.

"Goddamnit, Harry!" screamed Draco, flushing red. "Don't! Alright, just don't! I can't-" Abruptly he fell silent, shaking more visibly, his hands trembling wildly against his sides. Harry reached out, again without thinking, and caught one of those ice-cold hands. Draco shook just a little more. Harry sighed, feeling profoundly weary.

"Come with me. We need to talk."

Down the dark halls they went, Harry pulling a surprisingly non-resistant Draco by the hand. Up the floors they went, using the hidden staircases in the small spaces, breaths echoing off the stone walls. Draco was holding the Invisibility Cloak, having possessed the sense to snag it from the floor despite Harry pulling him out of the library. Harry was lighting the way ahead with his wand, searching for something- but what?

"Don't run away," said Harry to him. It would have been creepy coming from anyone else, but from Harry it wasn't a warning- it was warm, welcoming, almost teasing. His hand slipped from Draco's as he paced in front of a completely blank wall.

"Po-Harry, what are you-"

"Shhhh."

He paced back and forth, back and forth. Draco watched the boy as he paced, eyes closed, concentrating. A piece of paper dangled from his hand, and he was rumpled, as always- wearing jeans and a large grey tee shirt. Draco couldn't stop staring as the boy paced back and forth, back and forth again, thist time muttering. And then there was a noise.

A door popped out of the wall and two keys materialized into Harry's open hand.

"Thank you," the Seeker whispered to an unknown source, and captured Draco's hand again. "Come on in," he said." I need to talk to you."

The inside of the room was small, intimate. There was a single plush couch and a blanket. Harry gestured to the couch and Draco tentatively walked forward. Strangely, the whole room was done in a dark red and a deep gold.

"That's odd, I asked for somewhere you'd be comfortable," noted Harry, sitting down. Draco sat down, drawing the blanket around himself. His shaking started to stop as the door closed gently. A fireplace came into being and flames leaped up into a chimney that surely couldn't have existed before.

"Now, talk to me," said Harry, opening his palms in welcome.

Draco melted.

That was the best word for it anyway. He let his face call, just a little bit. Enough to let Harry know that, yes, he did need the help that he was offering. But instead, he stood up, the blanket drifting onto the couch. He paced in front of the fire, agitated, but no longer shaking. How much could he tell Harry? How much could the other boy take?

He hadn't said one single word before Harry leaped up.

"Please don't-" He said, but Harry was reaching for his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly with the surenesss of practice.

"Wh- what are you doing?" he asked hesitantly. This wasn't what he wanted- well he _wanted it _so _badly, _ but-

"Harry, you can't-"

The boy looked up, flinty green eyes sparking on Draco's grey ones.

"Who did this to you?" He ripped the shirt off Draco's shoulders, catching a cut. Draco hissed through his teeth.

"Shit, sorry-" said Harry, but Draco _howled. _

"Why the hell would you ever DO that?" he screamed at the other boy, collapsing into a shaking heap. All he wanted was to be close but no, Harry had to pry into matters that didn't concern him. He tried to hide as much of his battered body as he could from the Seeker, but the problem with Seekers is that a little is never enough. Harry crouched down, catching one of Draco's tears with a thumb.

"Draco, you don't have to hide from me, I want to help you, just please-"

He hauled the other boy into a sitting position. The muscles of Draco's back were so tense that they were practically popping out. Feeling only slightly awkward, he stroked the other boy's back.

"Please, I want to help!" he said desperately, "Who did this to you?"

Draco shook his head, sitting up as if stung. The full Front of his chest showed, and while Harry could see that he was muscled and well-fed, he'd been losing weight. And of course, there were the cuts, the bruises- so many and in places that Draco could never reach- they could have never been self inflicted. They were all over his back, too, and Harry noticed that several of the lines- as if made by a whip or something similar, reached under the boy's pants. Harry sighed and ruffled his hair.

"Come here, you're shaking." He pulled Draco forcibly into his arms, trying to cover as much of the other boy as he could. Draco sighed, collapsing into the touch he'd yearned for for so long.

He didn't know how long they stayed there. Hours, maybe. It could have only been a few minutes. But slowly, Draco started to talk, relating the story of his Christmas to Harry, delivering the story in little parcels, gently letting himself show to Harry Potter.

_!_!_!_!_!_!_!

This is only part one, it took me all day. Reviews please? It's the only way I can get better.

Also, I was contacted by a girl last chapter, who wanted to see if I'd like to play an RPG; it's HP and super cool and some of you might like it. Go check it out! .com

As always, love to all of you. This is going to run for a while... so thanks for staying with me so far.


	7. Meeting Draco Malfoy Part 2

A/N: This entire story is going to be flashback for Draco, starting Christmas and continuing until break ended. Draco POV, of course. When we go back to real life it'll be in italics. Ready?

****

I had written Hermione on Christmas morning, at around midnight, and then I went to bed. Family was coming over tomorrow, so I had to look presentable in the morning. Anyway, when I woke up, there was a house-elf stationed next to my bedside with breakfast and clothes. I'd slept through my Aunt Bellatrix arriving and she was asking for me, so I had to hurry. When I got downstairs, there she was.

"Draco, darling!" she cooed, "you look marvelous!"

She looked mad as ever, and she was wearing a black dress that showed off her Dark Mark. My father looked displeased, but- there's no controlling Aunt Bella, she just kind of- does what she wants. After that, guests and relatives started arriving.

"_Sorry- she was just flaunting her Dark Mark?" Harry looked nonplussed and a little scared. Draco stirred from where he'd been staring at the floor, shifting carefully in the other boy's arms. _

"_My whole entire family has been in Slytherin. Do you honestly think anybody there didn't have a Dark Mark except me?" _

_Harry was silent, and Draco curled back into him, staring at the fire. _

It's a tradition in my family to eat before presents, so that everyone can leave when they wish. We're not an extremely social bunch, so it stands to reason, I suppose. It was dinner, then, that started the- the rough bit of my holiday. We were all halfway through the third course- dessert, when _he _showed up.

The Dark Lord.

Oh, they were all scrounging all over themselves, offering him food, wine, their chair, their lives- it sickened me. I didn't know why he was there at first. But he started paying attention to me. It scared me, Harry. He's so persuasive, he's-

"_Shhh, I've got you, I've got you. Stop shaking, Draco, it's all right."_

When we finished dessert we all retreated into the parlor, where the tree was. The Dark Lord came with us. He didn't say a word, nothing at all, and as the house elves delivered presents, he just kept- he kept watching me, like a snake with its prey.

I didn't get much for Christmas, really- the Hand of Thieves, a silver snake ring, a few books and various items of clothing- it didn't matter. The Dark Lord was _watching _me, silently, always silently. I tried to excuse myself to the bathroom but I was kept in the room. My relatives and guests formed a perimeter with nothing but me and him on the inside, and-

"_You don't have to tell me, it's all right- please- stop shaking-"_

"_I can't help it," replied Draco, feeling sort of numb. He could feel Harry's arms around him, sure- the boy's elbow was pressing into a bruise. Normally it would have elicited a reaction he'd have preferred Harry not see. But not now. Now he was in a different place. _

You see, the Dark Lord is big on ceremony. He enjoys inductions and executions because they're of great pomp and circumstance, and he's all for feeling grand and marvelous. So I knew what was happening. He wanted to induct me into the Death Eaters.

You and Hermione have changed me, you know. I'm not the same person as I was last year or the year before. Being a part of your lives made me- well, different- and so I knew what my answer to him was going to be. But I also knew he wouldn't like it.

Do you know how incredibly scary it is waiting for pain? It's almost worse than the curse itself. Surrounded with the generations of my past and present and trying to mold my future- it is the hardest thing I have done to this day. And I knew the pain was coming. It was possible that death was coming. And so I stood and waited for the Dark Lord to make a show for me.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he said. His voice is like snakes. He walked forward to me. Wait, walked isn't the right word- he more- flowed, or something. But he was in front of me, and his eyes-

"_Draco-" the arms receded from around him, and he barely noticed. Footsteps went away and came back, and then he was pulled practically on Harry's lap, facing the fire. A blanket wrapped around his shoulders, impossibly soft and gentle, along with the arms that followed. Dimly he recognized this must be awkward for Harry, seeing as he was taller than the Boy Who Lived, but that thought was swept away from him by the return of the Dark Lord's eyes._

His eyes are like chips of ice, and they're dead but too alive, and they have snakes in them, and he's got no soul, Harry, he doesn't have a soul. Nobody can have eyes that dead with a soul. And he wouldn't stop _looking _at me. I- Anyway. Anyway- he just continued on, inviting me into the Death eaters, and he kept talking. It sounded _good, _it was like having a family, a real proper bloodline family and we could always be together and he'd lead us to greatness and we'd rule the world and it went on and on and on.

"No."

I didn't realize I'd said it, until there was a gasp from around the room.

"No?" asked the Dark Lord. "Think carefully, young Malfoy. Do not make a choice you shall regret."

I thought of-

I-

Harry, there's something you should know, before we go any farther. I… was never really dating Hermione. …We never even kissed, not once. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like her a lot- but as a sister, as a friend, only that.

"_But why?" asked Harry. Draco couldn't turn around. He was scared of the expression on the other boy's face. _

"_She wanted to make the- Ron- jealous, so he'd notice her, and I wanted-" _**I wanted you**. _"I thought I could help heal this rift."_

So I was thinking of my friends, not my Slytherin ones, but the Gryffindor ones, when I told the Dark Lord no.

He wasn't pleased. He went very still and my father was across the room looking ready to kill me. And you could have heard a pin drop, I swear. I don't think anybody's told him no.

They-

I'm sorry.

"_You don't have to-"_

"_I want to." Draco tries to quell his shaking._

They cursed me- all of them- it seemed like forever. I wanted to die. It was so incredibly excruciating. Think as if all of your limbs suddenly rebelled and tried to rip themselves off you simultaneously. It was ages. It was eternity. And the funny thing was, no matter how much pain they put me in, even though I knew I was going to die, I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision. I just took it, and I let the pain roar through me and dissipate. And I was bleeding all over the floor. And then I blacked out.

I didn't know Hermione sent all those letters. I'm so sorry to have worried her, truly I was, but the best I can figure I lost so much blood that I didn't wake up for four days. That left me two days to endure my family and sit and be pampered so nobody would know what they'd done to me. I had a house-elf by my side constantly when I took my first steps, when I ate, when I went to the bathroom- it was always there. The only person who even looked at in those two days was my mother. My father had gone off with the Dark Lord to plead for our lives. I was alone in the Manor.

They sent me off to here with that same house-elf. It's working in the kitchens now so if I ever need anything, it can go home and get it and nobody would ever know. I- Oh, God, I shouldn't have told you this.

"_Draco, calm down, I'm here." _

"_But you don't know _anything about me!" _wailed Draco, turning so he was facing Harry. _

"_I know this, don't I? It's a start. Is there anything we can do-"_

"_No!" Harry draws back as if slapped, and Draco tries to soften his voice. "I mean, no… not without incurring the Dark Lord's wrath. I just have to ride this out. I don't know what I'll do for Spring break, but I'll figure out something."_

_Harry's fingers subconsciously trace over Draco's cuts and bruises. The Slytherin shivers at the warm touch._

"_Isn't this awkward for you, Po-Harry?" _

_Harry's look of surprise is all Draco needs to know. He draws back from the other boy, feeling embarrassed. He hasn't fallen apart like that ever, and the drying tear streaks on his face can attest to the fact. Draco Malfoy does not cry. _

"_I should go," says Draco, standing and moving towards his shirt, which ended up neatly folded across the couch. Harry follows him, watches him as he pulls on and buttons the shirt. _

"_We don't hate you, you know," he says unexpectedly. "Me and Hermione. We're here for you." _

"_I always knew Hermione was there for me." Draco turns around, allowing a small smile to cross his face. He's still shaking, but it will pass, except for in his nightmares. "… But I'm glad you're there for me too. I'm really sorry I was such a- a pureblood, all those years."_

"_Don't focus on that," replies Harry without blinking. "Focus on what you are now."_

_He moves forward, opening his arms for the Slytherin. Draco drops his head. "I-"_

_Draco doesn't want to submit now. He's already made so much of a fool of himself tonight- he doesn't need to be melting all over Harry Potter. The other boy senses his hesitation. He drops his arms and gently grabs Draco by the chin, forcing those steel-grey eyes towards him. _

"_I'm your friend now. So let me help you."_

_He opens his arms again, and this time, Draco goes into the hug willingly. After all, this is why he said _no.

****

It's sort of short, but I'm satisfied. Reviews? What did you think? As always, this is all due to love from you guys. So thanks for sticking with me.


	8. Dances and Nightmares

She was laughing.

That was the only thing that Ron was processing, looking at Hermione. She was sitting with Malfoy and Harry and she was laughing. He wasn't sure when he'd started liking her, noticing her. Probably it was a little after she'd started dating Malfoy. More so for that week they weren't talking. But it had been almost four months since he had had a civil conversation with her, and two months from their fight. And Ron was missing her.

It was surprising, to say the least, that without Harry and Hermione he had almost no friends. The ones that usually talked to him had been driven away from him by his outburst two months ago. From the outside, the world was completely different. He'd been hanging out with Luna as of late, mainly because he understood her situation now. In his own way, Ron was trying to atone for himself. And mostly, he was succeeding.

There was only one problem.

He couldn't accept Malfoy.

And he knew Hermione wouldn't accept him until he accepted Draco.

How had he even met and liked and dated Hermione? When would he have stopped to talk to someone he hated so bloody much? It made no sense! Moreover, not only was Hermione happily dating him, but Harry had taken him in without a qualm. It—Ron couldn't understand how one Slytherin could take his place that easily- it wasn't right.

So Ron sat, and watched, and waited to be accepted again.

**  
** Truth be told, Draco and Hermione weren't really dating anymore. Harry had asked for and received permission from Draco to tell Hermione all that had passed from the beginning to the end of Christmas Break. He'd also told her that he knew their secret- so while yes, Hermione and Draco did go off alone from time to time, it was mostly shopping that they did together. (After all, there was a dance coming up, and with Draco's fashion sense and connections, Hermione was going to look like a goddess.) Hermione did a lot of searching for ways to help Draco (who blatantly refused help loudly to anyone who would listen). Draco, against all odds, was not falling to pieces. Instead, he leaned on his friends, for the first time in his life. And he liked it.

Things were going badly in Slytherin House for the Seeker, though. All of the Slytherins who had Death Eater parents (read: all of the Slytherins) had heard of his betrayal. The once-Prince was now in exile. He'd been banned from Quidditch and they were using a replacement. He was taunted wherever he turned, sometimes stung with a Charm or tripped in the halls. He'd hidden all his possessions in the newly opened corner of the Forbidden Forest, which was now being called sneeringly by Slytherins "Draco's Hole". His single had already been broken into and trashed twice. He was scared to sleep at night, though of course he didn't show it. Neither did he show the scalds and bruises that were showing from his infrequent trips to the communal Slytherin boy's bathroom and showers. He didn't tell his only two friends this. It was his lot to bear, and he bore it well.

Luckily, Harry hadn't pulled another stunt like he had in the Room of Requirement. True, he had given Draco the other key to the Red Room, and they did go there sometimes to talk. The boys now spoke regularly, finding they had a lot in common- a sort of inner peace that most teenage boys didn't have. They spent a lot of time together: playing Quidditch games with a pinecone or disappearing into the Red Room or walking along the lake. It was more than Draco had ever hoped for. It seemed his harebrained scheme had worked, and Harry wasn't angry with him for using Hermione. For Draco Malfoy, despite his healing cuts and bruises and the new ones that appeared every day- as long as he had Harry (and Hermione) everything was fantastic.

****

During dinner one night, Dumbledore tapped the podium with his wand, Almost as if by magic, silence descended as every student anxiously turned their faces to the Headmaster.

"We have decided on a theme for the dance," announced Dumbledore. Everybody held their breath. Hermione's hand gripped at Draco's under the table. Harry patted her shoulder, just as transfixed as the rest.

"Though the teachers and I are divided evenly on the idea, we conceded that for a faster calmd own, we should let your hormones run rampant-"

The buzzing started- girlfriends tugging at their boyfriends or vice versa. Hermione sighed.

"Yes, exactly what we need, to go and get drunk on pheromones and make a fool out of ourselves for love, honestly!"

Draco grinned at Harry at the girl's tone. Harry sent a wide smile back. Hastily Draco dropped his eyes to the table, blushing.

"We're having a Saint Valentine's Ball!" boomed Dumbledore.

"Oh shit," went three voices in unison.

The Great Hall _exploded._

Hermione looked at Draco helplessly, dropping his hand with a knowing smirk. (She'd picked _that _up off him. He was actually starting to hate that look.) Draco kicked her under the table. _Of course Harry won't want to go with me! _The boy in question sighed and ruffled his hair.

"This is going to be the Yule Ball all over again," he moaned, falling desolately onto the table. Hermione patted his hand.

"I'm sure you'll find somebody," she said, and that smirk flashed at Draco again.

"Yeah, well," said Harry.

"Come on, or we'll get trampled," said Draco, taking the chance to stamp on Hermione's foot as he got up.

****

"So, who are you going to take to the Ball?" Draco asked Harry that night as they did homework in the red room. Hermione was in the library trying to help him, and so he and Harry had the night to themselves. Harry shrugged, and the quill went _scratchscratchscratch. _

"I don't know. I was thinking of going stag," he mumbled, distractedly dotting an i. Draco's heart leapt.

"Oh, really? I was thinking of doing that too," Draco replied languidly, bending over his essay on purpose. The _scratchscratchscratch _stopped, and he glanced up to see those emerald eyes transfixed on him, looking puzzled.

"What? I thought you two were- that-"

"Honestly, Harry, are you really that thick? Ronald's been looking at her all week. If he doesn't ask her to the ball I'll eat- never mind."

"But will she say yes?"

"That was the whole point of us doing this thing," replied Draco faux-absently. His heart was pounding in his chest. "For Ronald to grow some balls, for her to get the man she wants. And I'm sure he's gotten enough maturity in the past four months to realize that he needs to treat her well, so that's a plus as well. Really, there's no need for us to be dating anymore."

Draco finished a sentence and looked up to see Harry staring shrewdly at him.

"What, do I have something on my face?" he asked, running a hand over his lips anyway. Harry shook his head.

"I just don't get it. I mean, you were a total asshole. So what was in it for you?"

"Well, thanks a ton," snapped Draco, shoving aside his parchment. "Finally! I'm done!" The books, quill and unbreakable pot of ink (a present from Hermione) clattered to the floor, and Draco stretched out on the couch, unfolding his lanky limbs from where he'd been sitting with his knees curled to his chest. He closed his eyes.

_Scratchscratchscratch_

Draco could get used to this.

****

Harry looked over at the sleeping boy. _I should wake him up…_ But he couldn't bring himself to. Draco looked so- soft- in his sleep, with the firelight over the bones in his face, and he was hugging a pillow like it was a lifeline. His hair had become ungelled somewhere between him turning to face the fire and nestling into the pillow. Harry was almost breathless from the fierce sense of protectiveness that came over him as he watched Draco sleep.

He reached a hand out tentatively-

Draco rolled onto his stomach, mumbling something. His shirt rode up to expose his back.

Harry gaped at the scald marks and little tiny bruises that littered Draco's back, marring the perfect pale skin. _Why didn't he tell me? _He knew that Draco didn't fall apart often, but surely if he was being tormented he'd have mentioned something, maybe moved a little stiffly. His hand drifted to the other boy's back, touching the bruises gently. Draco stirred a little; Harry drew his hand back, resting it on the end of the couch.

With a very soft *pop* an end table covered in bruise and injury salves and aids sprang into existence a few inches from Draco's hand. Harry's hand reached toward Draco, this time for good, just to brush some hairs out of his face. A hand groped itself out from under the blanket and reached for Harry's wrist.

"Don' go," murmured Draco. His voice was soft with sleep and he had dropped the pure-blood accent. His eyes were still closed. Harry knelt beside the couch.

"But I've got to, we have classes tomorrow."

"Nigh' mares. Pleese, Harry."

"Why nightmares?"

There was a little shrug from the Slytherin.

"Secret. So many secrets."

"You don't have to keep them a secret forever," said Harry, gentling his voice as protectiveness rose high in his chest, squeezing at his lungs. Draco sighed, disturbing some of his hair.

"Stay?" he hummed, drawing Harry's wrist closer. Pale fingers slipped down into Harry's, and the couch widened to give the Boy who Lived room. Harry felt a shiver go down his spine as the fingers pulled him closer, onto the couch.

Harry took one more look at Draco's sweet bed-fuddled face before he sighed and turned so there was a foot of space between them. His hand gently grasped Dracos, to stave away the nightmares.

"All right, I'll stay."

****

A/N the dance is going to be spread out over probably three chapters. But major stuff is coming soon guys, we're drawing to our close! This is probably going to be ten chapters with an epilogue. Thanks again for staying with me and reviewing me. As always, you have all my love.


	9. Brave as the Lions

A/N: I can't believe I'm on chapter 8 already! This is going to be mostly fluff but there is going to be serious angst in the next two chapters. This actually might run eleven chapters and an epilogue. What do you guys think? Do you want me to do more glee after this, or more HP? I might do a few one-shots after this… I don't know. As always, love is reviews~

****

Draco opened his eyes, sleepily blinking at the darkened ceiling. It was Saturday, that much he knew- but though he'd gotten a really good sleep for the first time in ages, he felt like something was missing.

There was something cold on his back. He raised a hand to where his shirt had ridden up and touched the cold, slimy salve that was on top of the bruises.

"Wha-" Draco sat up suddenly, wincing at an onslaught of pain, and looked around the room. The fire was out, and windows let in soft sunlight. _What time is it? _He pulled at his rumpled shirt and noticed the couch was the same size as a bed. _That's odd… _as he looked around, he saw a small end table filled with half-used tubs of bruise and burn salves. A bit of parchment with Harry's unintelligible scrawl on it was poking out from under one of the jars. Draco picked it up, scrutinizing the message the other boy had left.

_Draco-_

_Didn't want to wake you up, but I couldn't leave those bruises. Me and Hermione have gone down to breakfast. Don't worry, didn't tell her about this room- met her in the Hall. We might go to Hogsmeade to shop for dress robes. _

_ Harry_

There were several scribbles over the signature, making the closings that Harry had written unreadable. Draco sighed, clasping the paper to his chest. _Look at me, fawning over a note like some schoolgirl,_ he thought, but he couldn't bring himself to put the paper down. As he wished to go and be with Harry, clean clothes from his own closet appeared at his side, and a small door opened to the side. Draco smiled and went to take a shower.

The shower didn't run out of hot water, so he lingered, letting the warm water pound at his back as he couldn't in the Slytherin bathroom. The salves were working- he could see in the mirror that the bruises were fading, and even the scald marks were becoming more pink than red. He mouthed a silent thank you to Harry as he got out and toweled dry. His hair fell softly around his face, baby-fine and pale, pale blond. He made a face at it and pulled the gel out.

When he finally sallied forth into the halls of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy was wearing black skinnies, his favorite grey peacoat, and a deep green button-down. However, secretly, he carried a red ribbon in his pocket. After all, he may be a Slytherin, but some days he felt as brave as the lions.

**S S S S S S S S S S **

When he finally came upon Harry and Hermione, they were in the Madam Malkin's right across from Madame Puddifoot's. Hermione was sitting as Harry selected horrible tie after horrible tie. She had a bright red dress next to her. Both of them looked thoroughly perplexed as to how to tie a tie.

"Oh for goodness sake," announced Draco from the doorway, trying (and failing) to look cross. "Don't you know anything, Harry?" He strode across to the Boy Who Lived, yanking the tie out of the shirt he was wearing. "Those robes are _horrible, _you need something much more modern. Really, Hermione, you can't even see that? Here-" he perused a rack for a few seconds, tossing cloth things over his shoulder at Harry. "I don't want to see you until you have those on. And give me those ties."

"Nice to see you to, Draco," shot Harry with a smile, disappearing into the dressing room. Hermione rolled her eyes, but Draco turned on her. "Let's see that dress," he ordered, and with a look, Hermione also melted into a dressing room. Draco sat down, not bothering to look though the robes. He already had his outfit all picked out. Madame Malkin popped out from behind a rack and said, "it's lovely to see you again, dear."

Draco smiled at the old woman. He'd spent a lot of time at the dress shop when he was in fourth year for the Yule Ball- it had been one of the reasons he'd realized he was gay, actually. He and Madame Malkin had a connection (even though he was pretty sure she was a Hufflepuff).

"It's good to see you too," he replied, and she bustled into the back of the shop.

Hermione was first out of the dressing rooms, wearing a deep red dress that trailed like smoke over her body, fitting tightly to her curves and draping well over her stomach. Draco stood up and fussed with the thick, unbecoming straps, lifting her hair off her shoulders to see what it would look like. As Hermione waited anxiously for the verdict, Madam Malkin popped her head out, waiting for the list of alterations that were surely to come.

"I'd like to raise the hem a little in the front, just enough to suggest ankles," started Draco, lifting the dress up a little to demonstrate. "There should be only one strap, and it will be made out of many little straps, understand? I want it to seem like it's weaved itself onto her. Also, this dress will clash horribly with Weasley. I'd like to make this an electric blue, alright? Lastly, put a little shimmer into the skirt- it should be like water when she walks. Also a small bit of train in the back, just past the heels, which will be these-" he took them off a rack and gestured for Hermione to put them on. "And fit the bodice." With that, he sat back down and let Madam Malkin take the measurements, nodding to himself as he pictured it into his head. His legs crossed delicately at the ankles as he made sure of his changes.

"Also, if you could, I'd like to have a very thin deep blue built-in slip," he added, then averted his eyes as the dress was pinched and pulled into a more attractive shape. He pulled out his wand, and started adding embellishments to the shoes.

When Harry emerged it was with significant trepidation. He'd heard Draco's tirade, and he was worried. He felt like a gentleman in a white vest with black button-down, long black robes, and white pants. In fact, he felt very pale. But from the look on Hermione's face, he looked _good. _

Draco stood, eyes sweeping over him, and he gulped. The Slytherin circled him, pulling at clothes to make them lay better, plucking at a crease to make it lay flat. Finally, he spoke, his voice as smooth and collected as normal.

"Are you going for sexy or just your average joe?" he was all business, pulling ties off the rack so fast they were a blur. Harry shrugged.

"Whatever you think would be best. I'm- I'm not going to pick anybody up."

Draco snorted and muttered something under his breath, but slung a tie around his beck anyway. It was bright, fire-truck red, and Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind Draco as the other boy started to knot his tie. He looked like a dapper gentleman from the sixties, the kind that'd carry a hanky. He felt kind of wowed that Draco could put this together without so much as a cursory glance at the robes. He felt- handsome.

The boy in front of him shifted onto a hip, bending his head closer to make sure that it was pulled just right around Harry's neck, and Harry found himself staring at Draco's ass under the jeans as the boy moved from hip to hip, making minute adjustments. With a small gasp, Harry ripped his eyes away, staring instead at a wall. He didn't know what was happening to him- he'd woken up with Draco pulled tight against him, having moved in his sleep to protect the other boy. And now this? Harry flushed and closed his eyes as Draco's hands fell from his tie.

"What do you think?"

Harry looked at himself again, this time with Draco's face behind him, surveying the boy in the mirror. His tie was just a little bit skewed and pulled to the side- his hair was a little bit mussed, and he had his hands shoved in his pockets. And he looked- well- sexy. Harry surveyed Draco's face, looking for a reaction, but there was none from the impassive Seeker. Hermione came and leaned on the mirror.

"You know I don't feel about you that way, Harry, but if I did-" she whistled for effect, and Harry blushed. She was back in her normal clothes, watching the boys as they surveyed the outfit. "But Draco, don't you feel red is a little cliché?"

"He's Harry Potter-" Draco waved his hand dismissively- "Nothing looks cliché on him. Hell, he'll probably start a new trend."

Harry sighed and started to loosen the tie.

A warm hand came out of nowhere and clamped onto his.

"Don't you dare, Harry, these pants need to be tailored!" squawked Draco. Harry sighed as Madam Malkin came on command, and Draco smiled and sauntered back to his seat. He'd won.

**Three Days Later**

As classes had resumed, tensions grew. Somehow, Colin Creevey had gotten pictures both of Harry staring perplexedly at himself in the mirror and Hermione in the clingy dress, and they had circulated around the whole school. Everybody was getting red ties and gentlemanly dress robes in hopes of looking like the Boy who Lived- all dress shops within five miles were desecrated piles. As for Hermione, Ron had taken to staring at her constantly, practically, and while Hermione relished the attention, it made her slightly uncomfortable. She was just lucky nobody had seen the alterations. Draco watched with amusement (and maybe a little jealousy) as girls swarmed Harry Potter begging for dates. Eventually, when Harry got frustrated, he'd disappear somehow and turn up in the red room, where he'd taken to lounging in loose pants and too-large muggle shirts. Hermione still didn't know where he went, but she'd stopped asking.

It was one of these days that Harry arrived in the red room breathless and glanced to the side, where Draco was playing on the baby grand piano that'd shown up one day. He'd started living in the room, and it picked up on his wants and needs much more quickly now. Therefore, he could manipulate the room better than Harry could. Harry marched over and slammed the piano shut.

"What the hell?" Draco scrabbled around to face the furious Seeker.

"Why'd you choose that outfit?" Harry asked venomously. Draco blinked.

"You looked good in it," he replied. "Why, did you want to look ugly for the ball, cause I could have done that too-"

"What, so first you pronounce me a sex god, and now I'm ugly?"

"I didn't say that, I-"

Harry paced away and back, looking quietly furious. "Do you know how many girls asked me out today?"

Draco sighed. "No, why?"

"Seventy-eight. Seventy freaking eight! It's all your fault! I don't want this attention!" Harry's voice was rising, and Draco shrank from the angry Seeker.

"I'm sorry the picture got out, I really am, but I didn't mean-"

"Why did you choose that outfit?" Harry demanded. "I can't figure you out! It's ridiculous!"

Draco took a deep breath. Surely Harry was just gibbering, it would be fine. He turned around and started to play piano again, adding a gentle background to the fight.

"I chose it because I know clothes, and I thought you wanted to look good, okay?"

Harry fell silent, staring into the fire. He was confused. Surely he didn't mind looking good, right? It just- it made him sick, the girls clawing all over him. They weren't attractive. They weren't quiet and sensible. They weren't sarcastically intelligent and probably couldn't solve any problem just by looking at human behavior. They didn't have platinum hair and grey eyes…

Harry shook himself. This was wrong! He shouldn't be attracted to Draco. He shouldn't be even be _thinking _about Draco in that way. He'd get killed! Imagine: Boy Who Lived is Gay- the Prophet would have a field day. And then Harry would never get to see anybody again and he'd become girl's gay best friend, when really he didn't know the first thing about clothes or makeup. Besides, Draco probably didn't even- he probably wasn't like him. It was just- no. He'd have to keep this silent. He'd have to just ignore the butterflies. It was alright.

The Boy Who Lived sighed and lay down on the couch, closing his eyes. The sound of the piano lulled him into a deep sleep.

**C C C CC C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C CC C C CC CC**

Hermione stared at the new dress hanging on the door of her wardrobe. It was electric blue, like Draco had asked- the hem was a little high in the front, a little low in the back- there were string-thin straps that stretched gracefully to one shoulder, and the skirt shone as it moved. She'd never seen anything so beautiful in her life. And the shoes- she wasn't sure how she was going to walk in them, but if Ronald ended up asking her sometime in the next three days, she'd be almost at his chin. Which would be perfect if he- well, if they-

Hermione coloured and turned away from the beautiful dress, picking up her bag. There was still snow outside, and she felt like being warm tonight. As she turned to go, there was a soft tap-tap.

"Hello?"

She turned around, looking around the room. Another set of taps came, and she turned to see a pathetically small owl struggling to hold up a bit of parchment.

"Oh, Pig!" she gasped, rushing to open the window. The little owl zoomed into the room, hooting excitedly around the envelope in his beak. Hermione gently freed the paper from the owl, offering it her shoulder to sit on. In Ron's familiar loopy cursive it said,

_Dear Hermione-_

_I know you probably hate me, but I need to talk to you. Could you meet me in the common room now? _

_Ron_

Hermione gently tossed Pig out the window without a reply and started downstairs again. This time, she wasn't seeking the warmth outside- she was seeking the warmth within.

A familiar red head bobbed towards her as she descended from the staircase, holding out a gangly arm for her as she got off the stairs.

"I'll take your bag for you," Ron said humbly, looking as if he expected her to curse him at any moment.

"That would be lovely, thanks," said Hermione, without looking him in the eyes. She wanted to hold onto this feeling- being in control and feeling beautiful in front of the boy she loved. She couldn't do that when she looked into his eyes. "Where are we going?"

"I was hoping we could look for an abandoned classroom," muttered Ron, steering her gently towards the portrait hole by her elbow. Hermione took a deep breath and started leading the way down the halls to a classroom she knew hadn't been used in years. The silence was thick between them as they journeyed to a small, battered door.

It was cold in there- the heating spells on the castle didn't reach to this classroom, and Hermione's breath clouded before her face as she perched on a desk and waited for him to bend to her.

Ron scratched at the back of his neck, still not meeting her eyes. He'd set her bag down safely on a chair, and now he was pacing, trying to choose the right words to guide her back to him. He knew what he wanted now. Moreover, he knew _who _he wanted now. He couldn't lose her.

"Hermione- I should start by saying sorry. I was out of line. You're welcome to date whoever you like- you never needed my permission, and I'm sorry for being so- so- thick. I've had a lot of time to think over the past four months and I've accepted Mal- Draco. If you want him, I certainly won't get in the way.

"But the reason I did what I did was because I _did_ want to get in the way. I- I care about you, Hermione- more than pretty much anyone. And I've never been eloquent or anything but- I- when I fought with you, what I was trying to say is- he wasn't using you. Just like I wouldn't use you. Because if he chose you, obviously he would appreciate you and treat you as much and as well as I would and always-

"I've always liked you, Hermione. Ever since third or fourth year. I know you're with Draco and that's fine, I just wanted you to know how I feel. I've always liked you. It's only been in the past four months that I realized how much I _love _you, and want to be with you- and I know this is going to be all awkward and stuff now-"

Hermione's heart rose into her throat and she slid off the desk, pressing a finger to Ron's lips to keep him from talking.

"Say that again," she whispered. Ron knew what she meant- she had a burning sort of look in her eyes and he knew he was about to be cursed, but it felt so good to tell her, finally, after all this time…

"Hermione Granger, I am in love with you," he pronounced slowly, as final and resolute as the sun rising. She stepped back, not letting go of his eyes. Her brown eyes held his blue ones, and the corner of her mouth quirked up.

"I'm not with Draco anymore, you know," she said. "We were never properly dating. We never even kissed."

Ron's eyes bogged out of his head slightly. "All that time?" he asked, and she shook her head, stepping closer. There was barely a foot of space between them. Hermione's breath was still clouding into the air, but she didn't feel cold. A sweet warmness was filling her body, and it was all she could do not to just leap at Ron right then and there.

"What took you so long?" she whispered. Ron reached for her hesitantly, but it wasn't enough, he wasn't sure… Hermione smiled up at him. "I love you too."

Warm arms encircled her, pulling her up off of her feet, spinning her around. The only thing that stood still was his face with a look of pure bliss and joy on it. And then he was getting closer, and she could see every freckle-

_Kissing is nice, _Hermione decided later that night, laying in her bed replaying the scene over and over in her memory.

**S S S S S S S S S **

Harry woke up to a gentle, long-fingered hand shaking his shoulder. The same thin, aristocratic face that had haunted his dreams was before him in real life.

"Harry, come on, you've got to go to bed," Draco said, smoothing the front of his green silk pajamas. Harry struggled up woozily, grasping at Draco's arm.

"But I was in bed," he protested, standing. His robes were rumpled and his hair was sticking up in back. Draco's breath hitched in his throat, but he firmly pushed Harry towards the door. Harry pushed against Draco's hands. "Are you still having nightmares?" he asked, turning to face the blond. Draco shrugged.

"Sometimes. Spring break is coming up, you see. I'm thinking of just staying here for the holidays." Draco turned him around again, but harry spun, trapping Draco's arms at his sides. Touching him made Harry feel so _good, _and before he could stop himself, he said, "I'll stay with you tonight."

"What-?"

"Sorry- I know it's not- normal- I just…" Harry trailed off, not looking at Draco's face. Draco smiled, but it was tight-lipped.

"No, it's fine. I know it's weird, and I'm sorry. Now you should really go to bed, okay?" He turned Harry around one more time, and Harry spun once more, his back thudding against the door as he pulled Draco to him in a tight hug. The other boy was slightly taller, but it didn't matter- he collapsed into the touch, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder.

"I'll stay…" said Harry softly into Draco's ear. The other boy stood up and his eyes became distant again.

"Go to bed," he said, opening the door and pushing Harry out in one move. "After all, if it isn't normal, it shouldn't be allowed, right?" Draco's mouth twisted wryly and Harry found himself watching those lips, then the door as it shut in his face.

Draco turned around, put his back against the door, and cried.

And the nightmares were back that night, all the pain wracking through his body and his father stamping on his face, and Voldemort's high, cold laughter echoing through it all.

Halfway through the night, the door opened gently. Draco, in the throes of his memories, didn't stir when Harry willed the couch to lengthen and stretch so he could fit in beside Draco, gently pulling the other boy into his arms as he writhed around. Harry held him close, murmuring softly into the boy's hair,

"I promised I'd stay."


	10. Ice Inside Your Soul

A/N: One more! This is going to be very angsty, just warning you now…. Hermione and Ron will be your fluff reprieve. Love to all of you. There's going to be a short, short epilogue after this, and then this will be done!

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S SS S S SS S**

Draco sat up when the spell he'd set as his alarm started blaring into his ear. He'd put it as Pansy's grating voice, so with a start he was up and practically falling on the floor. It was wintry-dark outside, and the light was dim inside the room, but as he felt a knee in his back, he turned around, seeing Harry Potter curled up with his arm dropped in front of him, sleep-rumpled and snoring softy. Without his glasses he looked surprisingly vulnerable, and Draco had to work to suppress his sudden impulse to ki-

Draco shook his head, standing up and stalking into the bathroom, anger bubbling to the surface. How dare Harry do this to him! He was doing fine- he didn't need anybody to help him- he'd survived on his own for all that time! He didn't need Harry to come and- and _sleep with him! _Like it wasn't hard enough suppressing himself on a day-to-day basis, honestly. The shower was too cold at first, but he stepped in anyway, letting the cold shock him to life as he waited for the warm water to arrive.

The last thing Draco wanted was to want Harry more than he already did, because then he'd end up too close. After Hogwarts, he had no future- he strongly suspected that by now his father had disowned him, and he hadn't really ever trained to do much other than fly and laze through school, because- he only realized it now- his future had been becoming a hired goon, life indebted to the Dark Lord. As it was, he was barely hanging on. He didn't need Harry to come around and unhinge him now.

By the time that he was done in the shower, it was just barely time for breakfast. As he walked out straightening his tie, he was accosted by a pair of warm hands.

"Was waiting for you to come out-" gasped Harry, dashing into the bathroom and slamming the door. A few seconds later there was a soft, relieved sigh, and Draco shook his head. How could he possibly like this buffoon?

Draco gave the bathroom door a burning cursory glance and strode out the door of the red room.

Hermione wasn't waiting for him at the doors of the Great Hall as she usually did. He smiled a little to himself, slipping in the huge doors and glancing immediately at the place that she always sat- and there was a red head, sitting next to her. They were staringn(well, the polite term was 'gazing) at each other, hands clasped under the table, and Draco smiled at the fact that Ron was probably marveling over Hermione's soft skin, just as he had done. He hesitated- was he still welcome?

Hermione glanced around as she got another bite of waffle and caught his eye.

'Come over' said her beckoning hand, and Draco nodded, weaving between bodies until he made it to the Gryffindor table. He sat opposite the couple as they held hands. Ron raised a hand, staring with a small amount of trepidation at the Slytherin, but going to shake his hand nonetheless.

"Hey- thanks," he said, and his eyes held something. Draco cast a glance at Hermione, and replied, "it was my pleasure."

He'd lost his appetite in his slow-icy rage at Harry and so he simply fiddled with his food until the subject of his affection came bounding into the Hall, sliding into a place next to Draco and starting to eat without pausing as Professor McGonnagall swept over the Gryffindor table, handing out schedules.

She paused as she looked at Draco.

"Professor Snape told me to give you this," she said, her voice sharp as she handed over his schedule and a piece of parchment, "And he said that he hopes you know what you're doing."

She slid Harry's paper under his plate and was off down the rest of the table. Draco pushed the parchment inside his robes and into his waistband. Harry shot him a look which he pretended not to notice, and then it was time to go to class. Draco raced out of the Hall. As he strode to his first class, Herbology, he tried to figure out why he was so angry, He'd gotten what he wanted, right? Hermione was happy, he was closer to Harry- it was all exactly as he'd planned.

Except he hadn't planned on letting them in so much. He hadn't planned on making them vital to him. He had most certainly not planned on destroying his whole being in the search for love. And that, he concluded, was what was the matter- he was no longer the self he had been. Draco wasn't sure if he was pleased or disturbed, so he distracted himself as he passed into stifling heat. Fertilizer washed over him, and he sighed. Herbology was his least favorite subject.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S **

Harry hastily congratulated his friends as he wolfed down the last of his breakfast, snagging a piece of toast just as the tray disappeared down into the kitchens. Ron smiled, standing up and walking down the side of the table with his girlfriend holding his hand. When they reached the end of the table, Ron studied him, and reached out a hand.

"No hard feelings, then?" he asked, with trepidation, as if he expected Harry to hex him. Harry was secretly elated. Not only had Ron and Hermione _finally _gotten together, but Ron had accepted Draco as part of their group, and Hermione looked deliriously happy. Harry forewent the manly handshake and went for the manly tackle-hug.

It was good to have Ron back.

They all walked to History of Magic together, laughing and catching up on what had happened over the last four months. Ron and Hermione didn't lose contact with the other once. Harry, walking next to the two, felt a keen pang of yearning. Why couldn't he have something like that?

Unwillingly a pale face in the morning flashed into his head, and he shook it slightly, dislodging the image to catch up with Hermione and Ron.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S S **

Draco strode out over the grounds, completely alone. It was the middle of Herbology, but he was past the point of caring- he needed to take an outside look at himself, he needed some fresh air- he needed a break from this life. The cold tore through him. He was glad. He wanted the ice outside to cool his heart.

He'd always been so sure of himself, of his words, of who and what he needed. He'd always done everything the same way. He'd never cried, not once, in front of other people. He'd had a family, however dysfunctional. He'd not needed his friends. He had been enough.

Draco turned abruptly left, walking out to the lake. Listlessly he walked by the shore, crunching ice beneath his feet. It was grey out today. The clouds were becoming thick and impenetrable. It was freezing, and it was the sort of day Draco's mother used to call a 'dementor day', scaring him to stay inside where she could see him. Today he was scared of nothing but himself and his feelings. The dementors had no effect on the demented.

Draco had a sudden urge to walk on ice. He tested his weight on the ice just at the shore. Then farther, then farther.

He'd never felt this way before, this unbalanced, this flawed. He was incredibly frustrated with himself. Why couldn't he have been just what he was? Why did he have to talk to Hermione? Why had he made any of this happen? For yes, he loved Hermione, and he loved Harry, and he was sure with time, he'd grow to love Ron as well. But why did love have to come at such a massive price?

He sat down on the ice, not expecting it to crack. It'd hold his weight.

Draco let his head fall back so he was staring at the dementor day, and almost brought himself to regret love.

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring. At one point he laid down, spread-eagled on the ice, not feeling the cold that crept through him. As he grew colder, his frustrations and wants and fears seemed to melt away. Out here there was no Harry Potter to elicit some reaction from him, and there was no Hermione to share all his feelings with. There was no Ron to remind him of why he'd gotten into this mess. There were no sneering Slytherins. He felt no sense of failure in the cold.

There came footsteps on the ice.

"Draco, what are you doing out here?"

Warm hands hoisted him up, supporting his head like he was a small child.

"Ron, come help me, he's frozen! Draco, what on earth did you do this for?"

He said nothing. He wasn't feeling anything for the first time in four months, and it felt good.

He was hoisted up and into a pair of arms, carrying him like a baby off the ice and through the snow. Voices chattered loudly, animatedly. Draco closed his eyes, blocking out the world, just for a few minutes. Just two more minutes and he could deal again.

As the darkening clouds disappeared from view, and the lights of the castle started to appear, the talking grew louder, probably directed at him. He slowly let himself come back and identify the voices.

"-want to go to the Hospital Wing?" finished Hermione. She sounded to be behind whoever was carrying him. He shook his head, just slightly, feeling the snow in his hair melting and trickling down into his robes.

"Where d'you want to go then?" asked Ron surprisingly gently. Draco stirred a little in the arms of- someone and whispered something unintelligible.

"What?"

"Let me down. I'm fine."

His body was warming up again, and so was his heart. As he entered the walls of Hogwarts again, all his questions were answered for him by the mere presence of his friends. Why did love have to come at the cost of your family, your House, and sometimes even yourself?

Because it was worth it.

As his feet touched the stone floors of Hogwarts, one thought was flashing through his mind again and again- more of a montage, really- Hermione holding him as he shuddered and cried under the willow tree – Harry's fingers on the scars on his back- an owl flying to his window over Christmas Break- Ron shaking his hand at breakfast- Harry. Harry holding him to warm him up, keeping an arm around him even now. All those concerned eyes. Draco paused and smiled.

Then he launched himself at Hermione, grasping her in a tight hug, practically burying the smaller girl but giving her room to breathe. She started laughing into the fabric of his robes, and as his heart swelled and warmed and _grew,_ Draco further realized another thing.

Love was worth it, because love embodied what he had lost.

So as he walked to dinner with Harry, Ron and Hermione, he knew he was home.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S S**

This took me most of today to write, and I'm still not totally pleased with it, but it was necessary for the next chapter to commence. The next chapter is the dance, and it's going to be pretty durn fluffy so…. Yeah. As always, reviews are love, and I love all of you. Thanks for sticking with me~


	11. The Final Dance

The day of the dance arrived quickly, making the whole school wake up and pay attention. There was so much to do- the air reeked of magic. All the students of the school had to eat lunch on the lawn of the school because of the Great Hall's renovations. Classes were eventually cancelled because of the effort needed to transfigure the Great Hall. Everyone lounged around the castle, making excited comments and letting out sparks. On the lawn, Draco started up a small game of Quardarks with Seamus, Dean, Ron, Harry and Ginny, tossing the Quaffle around and doing tricks to catch it. Draco was fully recovered from almost-frostbite, and though Harry watched him like a hawk to make sure the other boy wasn't just pretending, everything was genuinely okay.

When people realized the sun was going down, the house-elves were putting out some food and they only had three hours to get ready, they started to bolt food down as quickly as possible and retire to their houses. Draco ate quickly with Hermione, and they departed together, Harry's Invisibility Cloak under Malfoy's arm. As Ron and Harry watched them go, both hearts light for different reasons. Ron muttered, "Am I going to die when I see her?"

Harry nodded mutely, not even bothering to fight the image of Draco that popped into his head. "She's pretty spectacular," he said, and turned hastily to his food.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S S**

"Stand _still!_" hissed Draco as he pulled the straps of Hermione's gown up onto her shoulder, adjusting each one so it stood alone. Hermione bit her lip nervously, fidgeting a bit in the bespelled heels she was wearing.

"Do you honestly think this was a good idea?" she fretted, brushing at her hair. Draco stepped back from his task to look her in the eyes.

"You are going to stun him, Hermione," he said, gently patting the side of her face. "Chin up."

Hermione surveyed herself in the mirror. In this dress she felt like a goddess. Draco'd made her hair soft and shiny, turning it up into an elegant knot. Her collarbone was prominent, giving her a sort of aristocratic air. Her heels made her almost 5'5" and her dress shimmered when she moved. Draco had somehow found her small, sparkling, floating gems that arranged themselves attractively as a necklace. Hermione took a deep breath as Draco's slender fingers left the straps, closing her eyes.

"What do you think?" she asked, still with her eyes closed. "I feel like I'm playing at being pretty."

"But you are pretty," said Draco. "Inside and out. Open your eyes."

Hermione let her eyelids flutter open and she surveyed herself in the mirror. Draco was behind her, looking slightly disheveled but proud, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He was in green tonight, through some absurd loyalty to his house, but she liked the colour on him. His grey eyes met hers in a silent encouragement, and Hermione sighed, turning her eyes to her own reflection.

She barely had any makeup on- a little mascara, a little lipstick. She hadn't had much done to her hair either. So when she looked in the mirror, she was incredibly surprised to see the natural beauty staring back at her.

The girl in the shimmering electric blue dress was barely recognizable, and Hermione took a breath in as she turned, fully not expecting the figure in the mirror to turn with her. But she did, and that was when it sank in for Hermione. She'd always appreciated herself, and her abilities, but never- not once, even at the Yule Ball, had she felt truly, completely beautiful. She almost started crying as she flattened her hands over the silky skirt, adjusting the bodice and straps tentatively, as if she might break. Draco smiled, watching her. He was glad he could give this gift to her. This one little thing, in return for all she'd done for him.

They had half an hour, so Draco finally primped himself a little and taught Hermione how to move in the dress. When they walked down the stairs into the Gryffindor Common Room, Draco didn't bother trying to hide under the Cloak from the rest of the Gryffindors. This was how it should be, when the air was thick with magic (or hormones, he couldn't tell which). As he offered Hermione to a dumbstruck Ron, he was the happiest he had ever been. The new couple kissed, sweet and chaste, and Draco and Harry made the catcalls required. Then, as a whole, the four friends swept down to the Saint Valentine's Ball.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S**

Harry watched Hermione and Ron disappear to find a table. As he stood next to Draco, the impulse to take off his tie almost overwhelmed him because- for the first time in _months- _it was _warm! _The teachers had made the Great Hall into spring. Draco had grinned goofily when he saw it before regaining his composure and changing it into a doting smile instead. But it deserved the goofy grin- it was _brilliant. _

The sky was still the sky, but the clouds seemed to be held at bay tonight- there was soft moss on the ground and tables consisted of over-sized tree stumps. The dance floor was some loose cobblestones, laid close together, and there were _trees. _Trees! In the Great Hall! Harry had almost had a heart attack.

"I love magic," he whispered, drinking in the sight of flowers and- was that a _rabbit _behind the punch table? Draco nudged his arm with an elbow, sending sparks into his veins.

"Was I the only one-"

"The rabbit? No."

They shared a smile before trying to find Hermione and Ron, squeezing through girls in dresses and boys in dress robes and red ties. Draco nudged him again, hand discreetly brushing against his. He leaned into the other boy's ear.

"I told you you'd start a trend," Draco whispered, chuckling. Harry flushed and stepped on the other boy's toes as they finally located Ron and Hermione (who were seated so close it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended).

"Can you believe this place!" cried Harry, bouncing on his toes to look into the trees. "I think they enlarged it or something!"

"It's the Great Hall, the last thing it needs is enlarging," said Ron, grinning. Draco made scary fingers at him and Hermione, smirking: "Lots of places to hide."

"Well in that case," said Ron, tapping Hermione's knee with his own. Hermione flushed a fierce scarlet, and Draco laughed, collapsing gracefully on one of the grown-in-place chairs. Harry immediately took the one next to him, grabbing one of the nibblies off the silver tray in the middle of the stump. As he tore into the tiny piece of food, Hermione reached under the table, grabbing at Draco's knee.

'Tell him' read the sparking pink letters she'd drawn with her wand. Draco blushed furiously, thankful Harry was now carrying on a conversation with Ron.

'Are you crazy?' he asked, intending to go on-

'He feels the same,' wrote Hermione, drawing a tiny heart. Draco scowled, waving the letters out of the air. They sparked and died on his skin, leaving a pleasant tickling sensation. He scowled at that too.

Harry's hand touched his knee under the table, just enough for Draco's skin to set off the fireworks that announced his presence.

"Are you okay?" the Gryffindor asked quietly, his hand leaving Draco's knee. Draco missed the warmth.

"I'm fine," he replied, smiling genuinely at the boy he- well-

"Good," replied Harry, and started to say more, but there was a loud blast of noise followed by silence, and then-

"We're the Weird Sisters, and we're here to _rock!" _

"Oh, hell," said Draco. "They offend my ears."

Harry made an undignified noise, and Draco looked over to see the boy turning red with suppressed laughter.

"What?" he asked indignantly. Harry looked over at Ron, who was also trying not to laugh. Hermione primly got up and walked towards the punch table.

"They-" gasped Harry. "Offend your-"

"Ears!" howled Ron, and the Gryffindors collapsed in peals of hysterical laughter. Draco could see Hermione's head shaking in the distance.

"What? It's true! Stop, people are staring!" he hissed, clapping a hand over Harry's mouth and digging his foot into Ron's shin. Harry made an "unf" noise against his hand, letting out a hot breath. Draco removed his hand quickly, flushing the same red as Harry's tie. He'd gone too far. And now the Weird Sisters were offending his ears, screeching out their newest song with unusual gusto. Harry touched his elbow, his hand lingering.

"I'm sorry," he said, not adding a 'but'. Draco, again, appreciated the boy he- that he's had a crush on for quite some time now. He hates people who add a 'but' to I'm sorry. Draco nodded at Harry, leaning a little into the touch. "It's fine."

Hermione arrived back with four levitating glasses of punch, passing them around. Draco smiled as he plucked the glass out of the air.

"To friends!" he proclaimed, and Ron was he first to put his cup in.

"To friends!" chorused the Golden Trio, smiling at the newest member of their group. And Draco smiled back, and his heart sang, and he could have melted. Even though the Weird Sisters were raping his ears. This was all he needed.

**S S S S S S S S S S S**

The night was escalating as Draco started curiously into the forest. Ron and Hermione had disappeared some time ago, and the Weaselette had pulled Harry away, saying something about "we need to talk". Draco could have gone to Seamus or Dean, he supposed, but he didn't like their style. Much too raucous. So instead, he wandered into the woods that were on the left and right sides of the halls, hoping to find a bit of solitude to let out his _never. ending. sexual. frustration. _and let his face fall a little.

However, his quest wasn't going terribly well- all his attempts at finding a small place to hide were inhabited by various couples (thank goodness he hadn't run across Ron and Hermione- he doubted his mind could handle it). As he walked, he hummed lightly to himself to distract from the dim lighting under the trees. It had been dark when he had been cursed from the Dark Lord's domain, and though he usually didn't have too much trouble, the sheer amount of Slytherins he'd run into already made him wary of each shadow, every place he couldn't see. So Draco wandered, humming a soft lullaby to himself, among the trees- straight into his godfather.

"Draco," drawled Severus, "I do hope you've checked my parchment."

"Oh-" Draco said, staring up at the hook nosed professor. "Not yet, Professor, sir."

Snape sneered at him, letting a secret smile show underneath. Draco smirked, realizing the Professor's game. There must be a Slytherin watching near.

"Well, Draco, it would seem that time with Gryffindors has softened you. See to it that you finish your assignment as soon as possible." Was that a little- worry? Maybe even- love? Draco stared up into the black eyes. That _was _worry! He stood up a little straighter.

"Of course, sir, immediately."

Severus laid a hand on his shoulder, gentle, caring. He bent to Draco's ear, keeping a dreadful sneer even as he said, "There are those of us who do not begrudge you your choice. Godspeed, Draco."

Draco watched dumbly, only keeping an expression of cool detachment as his favorite teacher swooped away into some bushes. In fact, he had the parchment in his dress robes pocket now- he'd absently moved it from one set of robes to the next to read later. Now his mission to find a place to be alone was more urgent, and he strode rather than wandered between the trees. In a clearing bordered by the corners of the walls of the Great Hall, he slid against an ivy-covered wall and fished on the inside of his robes, locating the piece of parchment he'd tucked inside them just a few hours ago. With shaking hands, he opened up the parchment to see the Potion Master's spidery handwriting.

_Draco, _it said, _you need to run…_

**S S S S S S S S S S S **

_And dance_

_Your final dance_

_This is_

_Your final chance_

Harry turned from the sight of Hermione and Ron swaying together with a pang of jealousy. They looked so happy standing together, and though he'd danced with a few people, he couldn't seem to find the only one he really wanted to dance with.

Ginny had dragged him into the fray, and over the music she'd shouted how she'd wanted to say sorry for months, but it honestly wasn't going to work out, and _blah blah…_ it all amounted to one thing- Ginny was happy to stay friends, and she wished him luck with the next one. _Good. _Though he had had some sort of attraction to her at one point, it had since faded away, to be replaced by- affection? Harry didn't know. He was just glad to be rid of her finally.

One of the Weird Sisters was crooning into his mic, and Harry felt a pang as he listened to the lyrics.

_To hold_

_The one you love_

_You know you've waited long enough_

Harry turned decisively towards the forest, away from the boys in red ties and the girls in dresses, to the trees where nobody would be, finally, because this was the final dance.

Draco sighed, folding up the paper and putting it in his pocket. He stood from where he'd cramped his long limbs into a sitting position, pacing just a little to get the blood moving. This was unexpected, and as he strode out of the clearing to find Ron, Hermione and Harry, he was already making plans. There was a lot to be done, and feverishly he was running calculations when he walked into a very solid person.

"Hello," said Harry Potter, and bounced a little on his toes.

_So believe that magic works_

_Don't be afraid_

_Of being hurt_

"I was just looking for you," said Draco in a rush.

"Really? Because I was just looking for you."

Draco glanced at him, fiddling with something in his pocket. "Listen, I've got to leave, I have to get out of England."

Harry looked at him as if his world was shattering.

"What?"

_Don't let_

_This magic die_

_The answer's there_

_Oh, just look in her eyes_

Draco paced a little to the side, but raised his head and met those _spectacular _green eyes, trying to catch his breath.

"So, it's like this, alright?" He drew close to Harry, standing just six inches away from him, murmuring the whole thing quickly, softly, as if it were a precious secret. "He's after me. I'm the only one that's ever refused and he wants to make a show of me, and so I have to run, I have to hide. I'm going to have to hide my wand somewhere so they can't trace me, and I'm going to have to go into the Muggle world and just pray that they can't find me."

Harry stared at Draco's eyes. They were fast and sure and beating with excitement and fear, and Harry swallowed audibly, trying to put on a brave face for- well, let's admit it- for the guy he loved desperately.

"Is- is there anything I can do-?" he faltered, reaching out, clasping Draco's hand. The other boy didn't pull away, instead letting out a soft laugh, raising a hand to Harry's face, cupping it gently,

"Don't you see? You've helped me more than you know. You gave me strength to pull away from a future I didn't want. You made my heart warm. You've stood by me all these months. Harry, you're the reason I can leave now." Draco paused, and a faint blush came to his cheeks as he raised his other hand.

"Harry Potter, you make me brave. And I thank you for that."

_Yeah, it's hard_

_You must be brave_

_Don't let this moment slip away_

"Let me come with you," Harry blurted, his hands flying to hold Draco the way he had when the boy writhed with nightmares just a week or so ago. This boy- this happy boy, sure and pleased to be moving and doing- was something that had manifested in these past few days. He wanted to hold onto the true Draco, even if just for a few minutes. Draco's hands fell from Harry's face to his shoulders, brushing on the fine dress robe material.

"I can't, Harry," he said, sounding profoundly sad, gazing into Harry's eyes. "You have a job to do, if I'm not mistaken. I know you see Dumbledore. And I'd help _you _if I could. Just promise me- promise me you won't let yourself die while I'm in hiding."

_Believe that magic works_

_Don't be afraid_

_Afraid of being hurt_

"How could I?" whispered Harry, letting his head hang closer. So, yeah, maybe it was the end. Maybe Draco didn't feel the same way. But he couldn't just stand here and be afraid, even though Draco had enough courage for both of them. "I couldn't just up and die on you. You mean too much to me."

It was dancing around the truth, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Draco hummed and leaned his head in, staring, always staring, never losing eye contact once. Harry pulled the boy into a fierce hug, closing his eyes to the world, losing himself to the feel of Draco's body against his.

_No, don't let_

_This magic die_

_Oh, the answer's there_

_Yeah, just look in her eyes_

Harry had to break the hug; Draco was clinging to him, his chest heaving as the full reality hit him.

"There's something I should tell you," whispered Harry into the boy's ear. Draco's breath hitched and he drew himself into Harry, holding tight to the boy's waist with slender fingers pressing on his back.

_And don't believe that magic can die_

_No, no, no, this magic can't die_

_So dance_

_Your final dance_

Harry took a deep breath, his hands knotting into the green velvet of Draco's robes. Those grey eyes threatened to overwhelm him, and for a moment, the Boy Who Lived almost buckled. But Draco was being brave, and so would he, for the boy who'd taught him so much about loving and what was needed to be a good person. He would dance this final dance for Draco Lucius Malfoy, the Boy Who Survived.

"Draco…" A breath separated them. Harry swallowed. "I'm in love with you." No stutters. No mispronunciations. It was out there in the open for the other boy to take it if he wanted it.

Draco's heart beat faster against his ribs. All this time- five words- and it all boiled down to this. This was the reason he'd slaved and soldiered and been through the pain. For this sweet moment holding the nerves and breath and eyes of Harry James Potter.

'_Cause this is_

_Your final chance._

Draco closed and opened his eyes. Harry was still there, emotion quivering in his emerald eyes. He looked doubtful, a hair sticking up in the back, and his hands were warm around Draco's waist.

"I-" Draco cleared his throat, moving his hands to either sides of the Seeker's face. He was steadied by the warmth and support there. "I have always loved you," he whispered, and then drew Harry down for a kiss.

And it was sweet and music and beauty kissing the other. Their mouths moved as though made for each other, made for this moment under enchanted trees. It was Draco who broke the kiss, panting slightly, the electricity prickling his veins in the most delicious sensation. He thought he could sing and jump and tell the world. _I LOVE HARRY POTTER AND HE'S IN LOVE WITH ME! _

Harry, echoing his thoughts, smiled, and pulled him in for another kiss.

**S S S S S S S S S S **

Draco held his broom at the front gate of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had come along to see them off, and though the couple was taking comfort in each other's arms, Draco could hardly blame them. His knapsack and broom were laid carefully on the ground as he met Harry's emerald eyes, catching on them like a dying man could catch a lifeline. Without a word the other boy took him in his arms, stroking the hair and back that he knew so well. The dawn was pale and wan, and Harry was wearing pyjamas under his cloak. Draco wouldn't have had it any other way. He grasped onto the other boy, holding tightly, hugging for one last time for months? Years? However long it took.

Hermione started crying, and Draco went to hug her as well. As he gently assured the hysterical girl that he would be back just as soon as it was safe, Ron gave him manly claps on the back. He finally let Hermione go. They made a funny four- Hermione in her ball makeup and hair and gown, with an old Chudley Cannons jacket over her shaking shoulders; Ron in his dress robes; Harry in his pyjamas and Draco wearing Muggle clothes he'd borrowed from Harry. As he looked over them, he almost teared up again. But no- this was his moment, and he had to go.

"I love you all, and I thank you, more than I can say," he said, surveying his friends, the truest ones he'd ever had. Hermione laid a folded piece of parchment on his hand and whispered, "Don't open it till you get there. I love you."

"Best of luck, mate," said Ron, giving him a brief hug and then walking with his girlfriend back to the castle, one arm around her shoulders. As the sun rose in the east, Draco closed his eyes. He was leaving home. He didn't know if he'd ever see Hogwarts again. And he knew he was leaving Harry to something dangerous. It killed him. But Severus had predicted a Death Eater revolt if he managed to stay free as a symbol of hope, and so he had to go.

Harry's warm fingers on the side of his face brought him back to reality. He gazed longingly into the face he loved, drinking it in one last time.

"I promised I'd stay," whispered Harry. There were tears in his eyes. His thumb brushed over Draco's jawbone. Draco smiled, tears threatening to brim over too.

"And you will. Just not where anyone can see you." He placed a hand over Harry's heart, bounding and leaping, wonderfully alive. Harry heaved a sigh.

"I'll find you, you know," he said, pleasantly, almost as if they were having a conversation about the weather. "I won't die, and I'll find you."

"I know," said Draco. He ghosted a touch over Harry's scar. "But only if I don't find you first."

Harry leaned in, and his lips were soft and warm and everything to Draco as he kissed his lover one last time before mounting his broom, still reluctant to move away. If there was any time, now was it. Harry helped him with his knapsack, pulling Draco in to a bone-crushing hug. Draco's key pressed against his neck on the string it was on, digging into his skin. He smiled at the pain. It reminded him he still had a home to come to.

"I love you," said Harry. Draco touched his face, memorizing it in his mind, to be replayed over and over in Harry's absence.

"And I love you," he assured Harry, and then, with a last trailing kiss, he was off, climbing through the clouds with his wand in the Room of Requirement, his heart leaping, his mind soaring, and with one brand new future ahead of him.

**S S S S S S S S S S S S S **

I do hope you were pleased with it, it's over seven pages long on my word document, and it took forever to get the scene in the forest right. There is going to be an epilogue after this, and that will be _it _for the story! What did you think? Reviews? As always, I love you all, and thank you so much for reading.

Still not JK, Still don't own anything… the song is "Magic Works" from the GoF soundtrack.


	12. Epilogue: Stronger Than The World

A/n: I am so lucky to have all you lovely people. I truly am. Thank you so much for all the nice reviews and thank you for sticking with me. This is the last chapter of HaHS… But I might be doing past or future fics. Send me requests, and I'll see what sparks my fancy. (I cried writing this, btw.)

As always, still not JK, still don't own anything.

**Two Years Later**

Draco Malfoy- or Drake Malloy, as he was called now- stood in front of the small flat in France he'd bought two years ago. In one hand he clutched a key. In the other, he held a much folded-unfolded-folded again piece of parchment, worn at the seams and barely readable. He checked the street for Muggles, then closed his door- not locking it; nobody ever stole in Chanson Prair. The former Slytherin walked nonchalantly down the street, walking straight out the dead end into the meadows that bordered the small town. The grass was high- almost above his knees- and he did his best not to leave a path.

Draco hadn't changed in the past two years- a little taller, maybe; face a little drawn from years of tapping on a radio to hear about the man he had to leave behind. He was even wearing similar clothes to two years ago- jeans, a deep green button-down, his hair gently slicked back so parts of it were soft and touchable. The only major difference was the black leather jacket he wore (it was something he'd never heard of before his run). Draco Malfoy looked like a man stepped out of time. He was wondering what Harry looked like as he strode towards the far end of the meadow, behind the one tree that grew outside Chanson.

He took off his jacket, hanging it on a convenient branch. _Personne âgée_ was what the natives called it- old person, and so he patted the old tree before leaning against it, one foot propped against the tree, the other still in the grass.

He had a clear view here of a massive valley full of forest, with the mountains in the distance. There were two reasons he'd chosen this town when he'd finally come to a rest two months after leaving Harry and Hermione and Ron. First, nobody had ever really heard of Chanson Priar who hadn't lived there first- he'd quite literally dropped in on it, exhausted by a long night of flying. Second, it was beautiful, and peaceful, and though everyone knew everyone, everyone loved everyone. Draco had friends here: a crone named Arelle, a woman his age named Jacqueline… there were more, but he was closest to them. He regretted leaving Harry every single day since leaving him at the Hogwarts gates. But if he had to choose a place to go into exile, this would have always been it.

And now, he knew, from long nights listening to the radio- Harry was alive, Voldemort was dead, Hermione and Ron were alright and so were his parents. So now was the time. Now was the time to use the parchment that had held him comforted on long winter nights when the nightmares came back and there was no warm boy holding him. He had waited long enough. Surely- surely now this would be alright.

He unfolded the parchment.

_Draco, _read Hermione's tiny writing,

_I know that you love him. He loves you. But if you truly go into exile, you won't be able to contact any of us ever again, and you'll be wandless, and so it is all very impossible._

_There is only one type of magic that can be consciously cast without a wand. I don't know if you've ever learned this, but in the DA we did, and we all got it down quite well. I expect you'll have to practice it, but anyway, the way it goes is this:_

_You have to think of the happiest thing that's ever happened to you, and you have to hold it in your mind. Kind of like casting the Ridikulus charm, but happy, not funny. And you have to will everything to be right. Keep the happy memory in your mind and then say, _Expecto Patronum. _That will cast a sort of silvery-blue animal that will go to Harry and he can follow it back to you. _

_I'm so sorry I couldn't teach you this, but you're going so suddenly. I wish you the best of luck wherever you are, and for you to come back to us soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Draco refolded the parchment and put it in his pocket. Leaning against _personne âgée_, he closed his eyes, shutting out the meadow, the trees, everything except his heart and the wind. And then, with all his might, he concentrated on the memory of kissing Harry in the Valentine's Woods those years ago- the fizzy feeling that had filled his veins, the way Harry had looked so astonished and happy as Draco pulled away, gasping. The way he'd known that no matter what, they would always be together, in spirit, mind and soul.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

His voice echoed into the trees, rebounding a million times. The wind picked up, just a little bit. There was a folding- tearing- sensation. Draco opened his eyes.

A shimmering silver lion pawed the air before him, regarding him regally. Draco knelt in reverence, afraid to touch it, scared to touch the happiest he'd ever been. His mouth opened, and without him willing it, a single waiting word tumbled out, carried by the wind.

"Harry," said Draco, and the lion nodded once before padding away into the night. Draco stooped, and fell back onto his back, head knocking on the roots of the tree. It was done. After all these years, it was done.

Draco didn't move much for three days. He went back into town, yes, for the toilet and to change clothes, but the rest of the time he watched out over the cliff waiting to see a shining silver figure, with a person on a broom behind it. And he thought, mostly about Harry. How he would look. How he must feel. What he would say when he saw him again. He thought so much that he could almost imagine the other boy standing opposite him. When he woke up, always, though- there was nobody there.

It commenced like that for a week, always sunrise, sunset with no Harry on the horizon. Draco refused to give up hope. Every day without fail he was out leaning on _personne âgée, _waiting, waiting, for a boy who never seemed to come.

It was sunset. The trees were tingeing red and there was a cold bite in the air that just barely signified that summer was coming to a close- it was going to be fall soon. Draco shivered, drawing his jacket around him. He was just nodding off when he saw a silver spark on the horizon.

"Is- is that?" he asked of the air, standing to see better.

The spark grew nearer, and his chest grew warmer for the first time in days. And there- there was a dark speck against the red of the sky. Draco sat down very suddenly in the grass, one hand pressing to his lips as tears slipped out of his eyes. It was Harry. Oh, god, after all this time- _Harry. _

It took ten minutes for the lion to touch down gently in the meadow. It sauntered over to Draco and gave him a regal nod before dissipating into his chest. And then- there he was- disheveled, cloud-streaked, exhausted. He stood and looked at Draco. Draco stood and stared at him.

He looked older. He walked a little straighter; his eyes were a little distant. He'd grown a few inches as well, and he still had muscles. He'd gotten skinnier, though- his clothes weren't quite hanging right. As those emerald eyes met his, he almost didn't recognize him. Draco swallowed. He couldn't handle it, if this was how it was going to be. He couldn't handle having to let Harry go again. And his eyes were so far away…

"Harry…" Draco murmured, moving to the boy he loved. And the green eyes looked up and met his, and as he said his name, they sparked. They kindled to life. Draco held his breath as he laid a single hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry Potter leaped at Draco and held him so tightly he thought that he could break. Draco gasped at the pressure, but returned it, raining tears down on Harry's head. Harry was whispering Draco's name over and over, crying, unashamed, into Draco's chest. Draco felt the familiar fizzing, the familiar electricity wherever Harry touched him, and he almost screamed with the joy of it, of feeling love after two years in complete isolation.

Harry raised his head to meet Draco's eyes. He had only six words that he wanted, needed, desperately to say after all this time, after thinking he was going to die- the one person that had kept him going through all the press and thanks and groveling and killing and chaos. Harry had needed this for two years, but the words came out measuredly, though his voice was shaking with emotion.

"Draco, I love you. Marry me."

Draco took a sharp breath in, one hand in Harry's hair, the other stroking the side of his face as if he still couldn't believe it. God, what this boy could do to him.

"I swear on my magic I'll marry you," he said, making the most serious oath a wizard can make to the boy he loved. Harry's smile finally returned to his face and he leaned his head in, quietly touching his forehead against Draco's, breathing his air. They sat like that for a while, just getting acquainted with the other one's heart, skin, eyes, touch.

"I love you, I love you," whispered Draco ceaselessly to Harry in the small space between their lips.

In response, Harry kissed him, and sparks erupted in his skin, in his brain, in his heart. Draco smiled against Harry's lips, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. It was the sparks that proved it. He was the true soulmate of Harry James Potter. Their love was stronger than the world. And as they walked on, it would always be together.

It seemed that with a little hope, harebrained schemes worked after all.

**Fin**


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